Gradually Falling
by BarbaraKaterina
Summary: Uhura/Spock origins story. Set during Nyota's last three years at the Academy, ends with the end of the 2009 film. Goes slowly, tries to keep it realistic. Kinda. /-/-/ Nyota has always loved everything about Vulcan. She was enamoured with the culture. So when she finds out one of her teachers this year is a Vulcan, her excitement is understandable...
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my first Star Trek fanfic. I tried to keep to canon, but I can tell you, it's a headache. I'm used to having seven books of canon and that's it, and now there's a sea of material, and inconsistencies abound, as there are so many different script authors. So I decided to simply ignore the canon where it made no sense. Sue me.

I hope you'll enjoy this, and of course as always, I do not own a thing.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota stared at her timetable, dismayed. On Tuesdays, apparently, she was expected to thrive on air only, since she had classes non-stop from 10:30 till three in the afternoon, and then one in the evening to boot. Then, there were actually two classes on Friday evening, of all times. She knew her course combination was unusual and it was probably a challenge to put her timetable together at all, but this was a disaster. It hadn't been so bad last year, she was sure. And when she actually registered which courses were when, it got only worse. Subspace communication problem solving, probably the most difficult course she was going to have this year – if she didn't count that damned Caitian II, but that at least was a language, and Nyota knew how to deal with languages – was right there at the end of the row of classes on Tuesday. How was she going to concentrate, she had no idea. And Caitian II was right after Combat II – she couldn't imagine any two classes that would have gone together worse. The Friday evening classes were of course Vulcan and Andorian. She was grateful the teachers managed to find any time in their timetables for the advanced classes, but honestly relived that at least the instructor of Klingon could pick a different day than Friday. It wasn't very surprising, though, that it was her of all people. There was consistently less interest in Klingon than in the other languages Nyota studied. Absurd, but there it was.

She scanned the timetable to see what else, apart from languages, she was going to face. Survival strategies could probably be an interesting class. Interspecies protocol likely less so, but there were bound to be at least bits of cultural trivia included that would make the class more interesting. Starship Technology was bound to be a boring introductory course, but one she needed.

From her own specialization core courses, there were only the likely-to-be-crazily-difficult Problem Solving and Advanced Subspace Communication II, which was likely to be maddeningly simple. She tested out of all the remaining communications core courses, which gave her more time to devote to languages. Which in turn resulted in a timetable like this.

Closing the file with her timetable, Nyota began to search on her PADD for course materials.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Even before that Problem Solving class, Nyota could already tell that Tuesdays were going to be exactly as bad as she had feared. The first class of the day, Advanced Subspace Communication, was as easy as she had expected, but it didn't mean it made the day any more bearable. In the first lesson, they were made to go through all of the formulations which they thought they'd said goodbye to at the end of the first semester at the Academy. It made her feel tired, and then there was Xelatian, a language which never came easily to Nyota for some reason, despite having studied it for seven years now. Those two classes right after each other made her feel exhausted, and now she was expected to concentrate on subspace communication problem solving. Well, she would do her best, but she didn't have many hopes.

However, the moment the instructor walked in the classroom, her head snapped up and she sat up straighter. There, in front of her, was definitely, undoubtedly a Vulcan. Wow.

Not that there were no Vulcan teachers at the Academy. Up till then, however, she'd thought there was only one, the one who taught advanced Vulcan. As with most alien races, the Academy had to try really hard to get at least one native speaker to teach there, and in case of some languages, they didn't manage even that. Klingon was one such case, obviously, but even Kasheeta was taught by a human instructor. And here was a Vulcan teacher for a language-unrelated class. Either he was a very particular Vulcan, or he was so good at this that the Academy offered him some real incentive to get him. Either way, it was extremely interesting to Nyota. And he was a _Vulcan_. She had been obsessed with that culture ever since she was little. And now here he was, the zhird Vulcan she'd met in person in her life. Suddenly she knew for certain she was going to pay attention in this class.

He started talking in a clear, controlled voice, and she wrote down every word. As he was going over the things they studied in Subspace Communication I, she took a respite and watched him closely instead. Commander Spock. This was just so...cool.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She spent most of the week looking forward to that class. Part of the reason was, of course, that her other classes weren't particularly stimulating. She loved all of her languages – well, perhaps except for Xelatian, which she at least tried not to hate – but the number of things you could do in a language class was rather limited. Especially in a language class focused on what a communication officer is going to need in practice. It got rather repetitive. The only other stimulating class was Survival Strategies, she expected to have lot of fun in that one. SCPS, however...that was something else. And they were supposed to actually start with working on the transmissions in the second class. She really couldn't be blamed for feeling excited.

Commander Spock entered the classroom, and again all of her attention was on him. She was vaguely aware it wasn't entirely right, she shouldn't fetishize someone's race for her own amusement, but she just couldn't help herself. She has known her other Vulcan instructor for years, back from college, he didn't fascinate her that much anymore, but when it came to Commander Spock...well. She'd just have to wait, it would pass, just as it did with prof. Sanep.

"Put on your headsets, cadets," came the instruction, "and listen carefully to the transmission, please. You will hear in twice."

And so Nyota concentrated. Yes, there was a very clear anomaly. It was not something they have covered in ASP I last year, either. It did sound similar to some of the basic interferences they learned to recognize, however. So some kind of rarer interference. Not standard Klingon, not standard Orion. Either a different race with a different technology, or a new way some of the usual problematic races have found to interfere with the transmissions. Now which was more likely?

The test audio ended, and Commander Spock turned to the class. "Your theories about the transmission anomaly, please."

Several students hesitatingly raised their hands. Nyota was irritated. She still hadn't decided, and she really wanted to impress this Commander.

He called on one of the students. "It's some kind of unusual interference, isn't it, sir?"

Nyota rolled her eyes. _Everybody_ could hear that.

"Yes, cadet. Now what kind of unusual interference?"

Most of the hands went down. Spock called on one of the few remaining students.

"An unusual, little known race with little known technology, sir?"

"Correct, cadet. It is, indeed, interference made by some race with whose technology we are not yet quite familiar. You have been taught to recognize the most common interferences in your Advanced Subspace Communication I course, and you should easily hear the similarities in structure, as well as the differences. Then you have to draw your own conclusions from what you know about interplanetary politics, xenotechnology and other related fields. In this case, since it was our first exercise, it was very simple. Seeing that the interference was not from one of the well-known sources, it was only logical to conclude it was from some little-known source."

Nyota hesitatingly raised her hand. She knew she was probably going to look like an idiot, but she needed to understand. She couldn't just let it go past her, she would never complete this course if she lost track in her second class.

"Yes, cadet?"

"Sir, may I ask how we can infer it is actually a little-known race, and not a new way to cause interference, invented by some familiar race?"

He looked at her. "You are correct, cadet. It could equally well be a new technology of a familiar race. However, statistically, the chance of encountering a new technology is by 78.2 per cent lower than of encountering a little known race with little known technology, that is why we concentrate on the second option in this class. But now that you brought this up, how would you decide which case you were dealing with?"

"Well...probably based on the area of space where I found myself, sir, and last encountered vessels, and other sensor readings."

"Correct, cadet. Now, we will continue to the second transmission record..."

Perhaps she didn't look like an idiot after all.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I don't own a thing. Thank you for your lovely response to the first chapter. Here we go again.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When Nyota saw the message on her com unit which said she should see Commander Spock in his office, she was unsure what to think about it. She knew she didn't do anything to get in trouble over, but Spock didn't seem the type to ask her to come just to tell her how good she was. Plus, come to think of it, he never seemed particularly impressed when she offered alternate solutions in class. Wait, that sounded stupid. Of course he didn't seem impressed. He was a Vulcan. What she meant was that he quickly ended the discussion about her observation, not even dwelling on it as long as he did that first time, in the three classes that followed. She wasn't sure what to make of it.

She also wondered how to address him when she came to his office. She really, really wanted to speak to him in Vulcan, to show off her very good knowledge of the language, but she was aware that perhaps it would not be received well. The language of the Academy was English, and speaking to him in Vulan might give off a wrong impression. Like she somehow didn't think he could handle English. Or like she wanted to show off too much – which she did, naturally, but maybe it wasn't ideal to broadcast the fact.

In the end, she decided to just pronounce his name in a proper Vulcan manner, not in the mangled humanized way it was usually used. That would allow her to impress him, hopefully, without being too obvious about it. Consequently, she spent the entire way across campus by practicing her pronunciation, and when she arrived to the office, her delivery was perfect: "You wanted to see me, Commander _Spohkh_."

He turned to her, not showing any reaction to this form of his name. Of course.

"Yes, ensign Uhura." So he looked up her file and found out her actual rank. Good. "Please, sit down." She did. "In my classes, you consistently show a high degree of knowledge, capability to reason logically, and also high aural sensitivity." So perhaps he did call her here to tell her how good she was after all? "While teaching you to use logic in your subspace transmission analysis is the purpose of the class, I will have to ask you to limit your participation." Or not. "The class is a core course for those with tracking for a communications officer, and as such, its main objective is to prepare them for situations with which they will actually be dealing in space. It is impossible to prepare them for everything, so we at least try to prepare them for the most likely scenarios. They need to be able to identify problems easily. It would actually be detrimental, in most cases, to know of too many solutions to a given problem. You input in class, while beneficial for some, is only confusing to most, who cannot keep clear track of the probabilities."

She stared at him. "So...you actually want to keep them from knowing about the alternate solutions, because it would confuse them?"

"While I understand it may sound shocking to you, that is the way most core courses are taught here. The information we share with the cadets are limited. We concentrate on their efficiency and ability to actually use the information. This, after all, is not a university, it's the Starfleet Academy."

She sighed. Yes, sometimes she did have trouble remembering this. "But what about the talented people in your class, the ones for which you say my input might be beneficial? Isn't it a pity to just leave them in the dark, when knowing could make them better communication officers in the future, sir?" That probably sounded really arrogant, she realized the moment the words left her mouth, but really, what could she do? It was the truth.

"It would be a pity indeed. However, there is an advanced course in subspace communication problem solving, which is an elective, and can be taken by those of talent, if they are interested."

Her face brightened. But better be sure: "Do you think I could attend, sir?"

"I have no doubt of it, ensign."

"Thank you," she said and immediately mentally berated herself. What are you thanking him for? He's a Vulcan, if he says you're good enough for it, he's merely stating a fact, not giving a compliment. Sometimes it was so difficult to free oneself from the human forms of communication...and she was so proud of knowing the Vulcan culture well, too! She quickly cast around for something else she could thank him for, and in the end, she said: "for being so patient with me in class, when I was actually disrupting your teaching plans."

He nodded. "You are welcome."

She felt proud of herself. She chose well. While she hadn't known she was disrupting anything, and so it was logical for him not to criticize her for it, he could have sternly cut her off and asked her not to share any more of her input straight in the second class. It would have probably soured her interest and negatively affected her course results and, in the end, professional capabilities, but on the other hand, he would have ensured that all following classes would go without disruption. Both of the options before him were logical, and so in thanking him that he choose the one more advantageous to herself, she was appropriate. Ha. Give me pointy ears and I'm all Vulcan, she thought to herself.

"Just one more question, sir," she said. "Is the advanced course being taught next semester?"

"It is."

"Have a good day, Commander Spohkh." And she was out.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Spock went back to his work, but allowed himself 7.2 seconds to dwell on Ensign Uhura. He estimated an eighty-two per cent chance of her making an exceptionally good communications officer, even though there were of course too many variables to determine it with any accuracy. Her talent for listening for subspace communication anomalies was certainly exceptional, as well as her logical abilities. And now she demonstrated her prodigious gift in the phonetic department, too. He was almost startled when she pronounced his name – he hadn't heard anyone say it that way, _properly_, since he left Vulcan ten point one years ago. And there really was nothing he could fault her with, she had the sound of it down perfectly. Her cultural context knowledge was good, too – he did catch her three second pause after she thanked him and was aware that she originally automatically replied in the human manner, but she corrected herself quickly and was able to speedily find a logical alternative for which she could thank him. Most humans couldn't do that, not even those who devoted their entire life to the study of Vulcan culture. It required quick logical thinking, which was relatively rare in humans. If she was equally good in her other languages, and in actual communication, not just pronunciation, then, granted she didn't let herself stray off course, she would indeed be an exceptional officer one day. He was pleased that she would be in the advanced course next semester and he would be able to contribute to the forming of a woman who might be a great asset to Starfleet one day.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I know Kirk would probably actually be a bit older - that talk with Pike in the bar seemed to imply he spent some time slacking around, doing nothing, after high school - but Uhura wouldn't know that, and he certainly didn't act older.

I own nothing, and enjoy.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota walked in the first class of the advanced SCPS with a spring in her step. Her completion of the basic course had been quite...successful. After the last class, she had gone to talk to Commander Spock about the test. "Sir," she asked, "may I include the information you asked me not to share in your classroom in the test?"

"You may, ensign. However, the time you have for your test is limited and you are primarily expected to put in the most likely solutions, with explanations of how you arrived at that conclusion. I recommend including alternative solutions only if you have spare time."

"Yes, Commander Spohkh."

And then she scored 113% on the test, making top of her class. She couldn't wait for this advanced elective to start.

She wasn't disappointed either. Everything she wasn't allowed to say in the core course now got room for expression. She realized she was the youngest student present. Apart from her, there were four juniors and the rest of the fifteen-people group was formed by seniors. All future communications officers, like her. In spite of her excellent results in the final SCPS test, she was a bit nervous when she saw this, but soon realized she didn't need to be. Some of the seniors were clearly more experienced than she was, but not by such a large margin, and most took this course for the first time too.

"What are your thoughts on this transmission recording?"

Everybody present raised their hands.

"Very well. Ensign Jameson?"

"The basic pattern is that of a distress signal, sir."

"What kind of distress signal?"

"My guess would be...Vulcan, sir. But it is a bit...off."

"Do any of you have other thoughts?"

Nyota hesitatingly raised her hand.

"Yes, ensign Uhura?"

"Well, sir, while I can see how ensign Jameson came to that conclusion – the pattern is not dissimilar – considering other factors, I do not believe it to be Vulcan."

"What other factors?"

"Vulcans are fully integrated into the Federation, they were one of the founding species. While I am aware that..." should she say 'you' or 'they'? "...Vulcans are proud of their cultural specifics and resent anyone attempting to rob them of it, I am confident that in case of a distress signal, they would use the universal, Federation-wide pattern, not the traditional Vulcan one, when transmitting long-range. Perhaps if someone inexperienced was in charge of the communication, this could happen, but the likelihood is not big and, additionally, as Jameson already said, there would still be something off about it."

"What would be your solution, then?"

"The best I can offer is that it came from a source culturally related to the Vulcans – either Romulans or V'tosh ka'tur."

"And if you had to choose between them?"

"I'd say Romulans, sir."

"And you would be correct. You have displayed precisely what I ask of my students in these courses – the ability to combine you factual knowledge with what you hear to logically arrive at the correct conclusion. Differentiating between Vulcan and Romulan distress signals might be a matter of life and death for your ship one day. We will return to this topic later. Now, prepare to listen to a new recording."

Oh, she _loved _this course.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

On her way to lunch, she was intercepted by James Kirk of all people. Half a year later and she still didn't get over the fact that they actually recruited the idiot that had bothered her in that bar and effectively started a brawl, even though those guys from her year were certainly to blame too. Dealing with people like him got on her nerves so much.

Leonard McCoy was with him, and so she completely ignored Kirk and turned to the doctor instead. "How can you stand being around him all the time?" She asked.

"Well, he doesn't do this to me," Leonard replied, and he probably had a point.

But still. He had already had his MD when he came to the Academy, just as she had already had her BA in xenolingvistic, granting them both the rank of ensign on entering the Academy, and, more importantly, making them older than recruits with non-specialized majors by several years – McCoy was actually even older than she was. Dealing with nineteen years old freshmen was difficult enough for her, she didn't know how he could bear it, and with Kirk of all people, the worst kind of arrogant teen she had ever seen.

Well, it was his business. Perhaps what kept him calm around Kirk was the knowledge that he would be graduating the Academy with the rank of lieutenant, and then he would be able to order the future ensign Kirk around. That thought certainly cheered _her_ up. If, god forbid, they were ever to end up on the same ship, she would definitely use the possibility.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The advanced SCPS course got even better with time. It was constantly challenging her in some new ways. They were discussing all kinds of possible anomalies in subspace transmissions – from strange distress signals and interferences, to message distortions caused by distance or natural phenomena. And Spock had something to say about each of hose topics. Nyota was only now beginning to appreciate how brilliant the man – well, Vulcan – really was. Of course she always knew he was clever, he was a Starfleet instructor and all that, but he was really a genius. She saw his profile on the Academy's official page and so knew that he was a theoretical physics and astrophysics graduate, yet the areas in which he could offer some comment were much broader. He really seemed to know everything.

Of course, when she tried to sing his praises to Gaila, the girl only rolled her eyes. "He knows so much because he's a Vulcan. He doesn't have a life. All he ever does is study."

"Maybe you should try that sometimes," Nyota couldn't help remarking.

Gaila stuck out her tongue at her. "Sometimes you seem half-Vulcan yourself. How do you mask the pointy ears, tell me?"

Nyota remembered her first – and only, really - private conversation with Commander Spock, in which she thought the same, and smiled. There were times she really wished she was at least half-Vulcan. Usually, she was glad she had her emotions – she especially couldn't imagine living without the warm feelings of friendship and love for people around her. But a little more control over one's reactions, for example...though it usually weren't her own reactions which bothered her. It was the other people. Perhaps she should move to Vulcan. The weather would be better there at any rate, she thought, dismayed, looking at the bleak spring the West Coast was having at the moment.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Commander Spock might have been an astrophysicist, but Nyota certainly wasn't, and she found her gaps in knowledge to be more and more detrimental to her success in advanced SCPS. In the end, she decided to go and see Spock about it in his office hours.

"Commander Spohkh."

"Yes, Ensign Uhura? Come in and take a seat, please. What do you need?"

"Well, I'm having trouble with all the physics and science we come across in class, sir, even though I try to write down everything you say regarding the matter. I really feel that some introductory book on the topic would be helpful."

"That is a logical assumption, yes. There is a number of course books for students of physics, they are readily available for you."

"I know, sir, but they all contain large amounts of equations which I'm really not going to need...or understand. I'd need some sort of book which would give me the facts, tell me what I can come across in space, without making me do my own calculations."

"Perhaps some kind of more popular book would be adequate, then, even though I'm not sure it would contain sufficient information for your needs," he paused. "I will have to think about this carefully, ensign. I will let you know when I come across the right reading material for you."

Should she thank him now or not? She hesitated. It was only logical that her instructor would recommend her school texts, but on the other hand..."Thank you, sir, for taking the time out of your busy schedule to consider the question in detail," she said at last, and it seemed it was the right choice again.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Yes, Nyota is a disgusting little swot. She would never have made it as far as she did otherwise. I mean, "Lietenant Uhura is unmatched in xelolinguistics", from a Vulcan? It's pretty much like a Nobel prize, as far as I'm concerned.

As usual, I own nothing.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was Nyota's last class of the year with Spock, and once again, she wanted to go and see him afterwards. She seemed to be always wanting something from him. She really hoped she didn't bother him too much, since she'd never be able to tell, of course, and he probably wouldn't tell her either, since it seemed he considered helping her a part of his teaching duties. She wasn't certain at all that other teachers would view it that way if she approached them with her request, and she was grateful he did. But today, she was going to test his magnanimousness jut a bit more.

"Sir, may I speak with you?"

"Yes, Ensign Uhura?"

"I was thinking that...well that constant practice is really the best way to do good in subspace transmission analysis, much as it is in languages, and that the two months that await me out of the Academy...well, I run the risk of loosing much of the auditory sensitivity I've cultivated in the past year if I don't hear a single subspace transmission during that time. It would make the year seem like a lost work. Only partly, of course, since of course the information I received in your courses I'd still have, but...well it really is much like languages. When you don't talk one for a while, you stop hearing the subtle differences, and I'm afraid it could be the same in this case, and it could take me a rather long time at the beginning of the next academic year to get back on track..." She realized she was rambling and tried to get back on track. "So, anyway, what I wanted to ask is, do you have some anomalous subspace transmission recordings you could perhaps upload to my PADD so that I could practice over the summer?"

"I am quite certain that I will be able to find something appropriate, however, not on a moment's notice. When are you leaving?"

"After the exams, sir, in two weeks."

"Very well. I shall contact you before then and provide you with the required materials."

Definitely no thanking him this time. She didn't even really hesitate – she was getting good at this. "Have a good day, sir," she said instead and left the classroom.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

On his way to his office, Commander Spock thought about Ensign Uhura. He adjusted his estimate from the last semester. He was now 89 per cent certain she would make an exceptionally good communications officer. While he still hadn't had the opportunity to hear her speak any of the languages she studied, he watched her in applying her theoretical knowledge and she did excellently. Her logic was good enough to impress even him, and in the fields which weren't her forte, like physics and sciences in general, she was willing to learn, while keeping herself efficient. He remembered her apologetic air when he'd finally let het know that he had the right introductory science books for her. "I feel a bit stupid, asking a physicist for something which has such an unscientific target audience, but I really do not have the capacities to study the equations and theoretical principles. My schedule is too busy for that, as sorry as it makes me feel. I'm sure I would find it very interesting if I could allow myself to get into it, even though my talents have always laid elsewhere." He'd explained that it was illogical to feel stupid about an extremely logical decision, and she clarified she meant she was asking an over-qualified person, that surely one of the cadets specializing in astrophysics could recommend her a book like that and she wouldn't have to waste his time. He considered that thought and replied that a cadet would be hardly qualified to know what exactly it was she needed for subspace transmission analysis, and so he actually was the ideal choice to turn to. That seemed to satisfy her.

It was also the first time he had ever heard her use the phrase that she felt some way. Other cadets did it often enough, in classes, when they used intuition to come to conclusions. She always presented perfect reasoning instead. And on this particular occasion when she talked about feeling, Spock thought that even pure Vulcans would understand, even though they would not phrase it that way. She belied she acted in a less than perfectly logical manner, that was why she 'felt stupid'. That was something every Vulcan to which this ever happened could sympathize with. Not that any of them would ever admit to it publically, of course. But then, he _was_ her instructor. Exposing your faults in reasoning to your teachers so that they may correct them was an entirely logical thing to do.

Which brought him to anther point: it was now proven beyond reasonable doubt, as humans would say, that Ensign Uhura was exceptionally culturally adaptable. Since the beginning, she acted very much in accordance with the Vulcan norms around him, and now, after les than a year, she had almost perfected her manner. Such a skill was invaluable to a communications officer.

And now she wanted to practice subspace transmission analysis over the summer. He decided to devote more time to the task of selecting the right materials than he ordinarily would. Because in her case, he could be confident that the work would not be wasted.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A week later, Nyota was studying for her Xelatian exam, her hopes of not actually hating the language gone for some time already. In the midst of her frustration, the computer interrupted her: "Incoming video message from Commander Spock." She raised her head from her PADD. "Receive," she replied, moving in front of the screen. And there he was, sitting at the desk in his office. "Good afternoon, Ensign Uhura. I'm sending you two subspace transmission recordings attached, for your independent study. Contact me personally or by video call during my office hours, there are things I need to discuss with you further."

Raising her eyebrows, Nyota downloaded the files, checked in the mirror that she looked presentable, and turned back to the computer. "Video call to Commander's Spock Office," she stated clearly, and waited just a couple of seconds for her call to be received.

"Good afternoon, Ensign," he greeted her again.

"Good afternoon, Commander Spohkh."

"I realized we have not established how much material you need. How often do you want to practice?"

"I haven't really thought about that, sir, but as often as possible."

"Once a week, as you did during the school year?"

"Honestly, I was thinking more along the lines of once per day, for a shorter period of time, like on one recording."

"That would require a large amount of material."

"Oh, you don't have to get me so much, sir! Whatever you have will be fine! I can listen repeatedly to the same ones, perfecting my understanding of the anomalies I hear..."

"You could do that, but it would be less effective than having various recordings."

She hesitated. She hated, hated being a bother, but she was talking to a Vulcan, and nothing but plainly stated truth would do: "Yes, it would, sir."

"I will try to get as much material for you as possible. Come to my office before you leave for home and I will transfer it to you PADD."

"Thank you, Commander." There was no question this time.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She did stop by his office the day before she was scheduled to leave, just as he had instructed her, and found him waiting for her.

"Ensign Uhura," he greeted her.

"Commander Spohkh," she returned.

"May I have your PADD, please?"

She handed him the device, and he started transferring materials from his computer. "What I upload now will last you for some time, but not the whole of the holidays. I will send you additional materials as I come across them during the summer."

"I don't want to bother you too much..."

"I would have been searching for materials for my next year's course anyway. I will simply record more of the interesting transmissions."

"Very well, then," she fell silent, and he handed her her PADD. She still didn't move. Something occurred to her, but it would be almost impertinent to ask.

"Anything else, Ensign?"

"Well, I was wondering...I mean, I thought of something else to ask of you, but I really do not want to bother you too much, and this really is stepping over that line, so..." Way to go, Nyota, she told herself. You pride yourself on your clarity of expression, especially when talking to Vulcans, and this is what leaves your mouth?

"Allow me to be the judge of that," he said emotionlessly – of course – making her feel even worse. "What did you want to ask?"

"Well, if you're going to be contacting me anyway, with the recordings...would it be too much to ask you to call, instead of just sending a message? That way, I could actually consult my conclusions with you and make sure I don't spend the entire summer just confirming some wrong deductions...I promise I wouldn't take too long, just share what I deduced from my analysis...but it's still a lot to ask of you, and another thing is, my family lives in Adis Ababa, so you couldn't actually call during the office hours, that's the middle of the night there..."

"Office hours do not matter much during the summer. Adis Ababa has ten hours difference from San Francisco, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then I could call when it is the morning here and evening there," he paused. "I cannot state with any certainty how often I would be able to contact you, but can we establish that I would be calling at 1800 hours Adis Ababa time, if I was to call, and that you'd be prepared to receive the call?"

"Oh, that would be just perfect! It's really enough – more than enough – if you just call when you have some new transmission to send me, and I will try to be brief."

"Then we are agreed."

"Thank you so much, sir." What he promised was definitely way beyond the scope of normal teacher duties.

"It is not that much trouble for me to give several minutes of my time few times a week to a promising student who is willing to learn," he clarified, yet he acknowledged the thanks. He just seemed to think it was unnecessary profuse, but in this, she simply couldn't agree with him. It was more trouble than most teachers would have taken, Vulcan, human, or from any other species.

"Have a nice summer, Commander Spohkh."


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Someone commented in an anonymous review of the last chapter that Spock and Nyota should have their summer conversations in Vulcan. While that is not what's going to happen, the Vulcan language will have a role to play, quite a huge one. Just be patient.

I do not own them. I wish I did. Quite a few things would be different.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

„Of course we can have family dinners at seven during the summer, Nyota, but why?" Her mother asked as they were sitting on a shadowed terrace of their family house in the suburbs of Adis Ababa.

Nyota put down her Blue Moon and replied: "Well, I convinced a teacher from the Academy to send me studying materials regularly during the summer and call for a couple of minutes so that I can consult with him. Timing is a bit awkward because of that ten-hour difference, and when he suggested he'd call at 1800 hours of our time, I was simply not going to tell him that that is when we have dinner. I was bothering him enough as it was."

Her mum looked at her over the top of her glass: "Nyota, you voluntarily arranged to be sent studying materials over the summer?"

"Well, yes."

A sigh. "You're even worse than I used to be. Sometimes I'm worried about you."

"Mum, these are all things which are forgotten easily, and two months is a long time..."

"All right, all right. Promise me you will at least work less."

"I don't think I have any choice in this respect...you and dad are just going to ask me endless questions and not give me any peace, I know it."

Her mother laughed. "It's our job. We have you at home for two months a year, you can't expect us to just let you sit in your room."

"And I wouldn't, Mum. Not really. Just for those couple of minutes I'll spend talking to Commander Spock."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota didn't really expect him during her first week home, she had nine recordings from him, he'd know they'd last her that long. When the second week rolled around, however, she started to pay more attention to the clock. As she could have predicted, on the ninth day, precisely on the stroke of 1800, her computer announced: "Incoming video call from Commander Spock."

"Receive."

"Good evening, Ensign Uhura."

She smiled a little: "Good morning, Commander Spohkh."

"Have you had a chance to listen to the recordings?" He asked.

"Of course, sir. I've gone over all of them."

"Your determination is commendable. I'm sending five more that I was able to find during the time we haven't spoken."

She stopped the thanks just in time. Only nine days and she was already out of practice. Apparently, what she told her mother didn't just apply to subspace transmission anomalies.

He continued in the same professional vein: "Were you successful with the ones I gave you before?"

"Well, I cannot really be certain, but in some cases, I am almost sure I was," Nyota replied carefully. "There was a Romulan ship to ship communication, Orion smuggler ship signal, Klingon ship to ship communication, Caitian distress signal, a message from an Earth ship that must be ancient already and I can't quite believe they allow such things in space still, and a failed attempt at communication, standardized Federation procedure. Are these correct?"

"Yes. Do you have any ideas about the other three?"

"Well, here we come to the areas that give me much more trouble, as I'm sure you know. One I'm rather confident was a message distorted by a black hole nearby..."

"It was."

"...then there was something which...I _think_ it was several messages bundled together in some way, but..."

"Correct again."

"The last one beats me, though, sir. I do have theories, of course, but..."

"Share them, then," he invited her.

"Well it seems like somehow the message was...turned around, I'd say, but what phenomena could have caused it...what is there in subspace that works like a mirror for subspace messages?"

"You should try to determine that, based on the known data."

Of bloody course. He was not going to give her anything for free, was he? Fortunately, she had expected this and was prepared, as much as she could be. "Well...a magnetic storm? That seems to be the cause of most unexpected things that happen in space, judging from the books you'd recommended."

"Generally speaking, you are right, though in this case, we can be even more precise. With seventy-eight per cent probability, it was an ion storm. Their effects are most unusual, and there are even reports of borders between parallel universes thinning when a storm is particularly strong. There are various scientific theories on why, and why it should affect the subspace messages in the way it seems to, but for you, it is mainly important to know it does. Or so we think. It is absolutely fascinating." He paused. "Have all the files already downloaded?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. I will contact you again when I have more recordings for you."

"Good day, Commander."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He called again five days later. She was almost sorry she didn't have anyone whom she could bet, she would have won.

"I have three recordings for you this time. Did you analyse the last set?"

"Yes. There was another ion storm, wasn't there?"

"Indeed."

"Are they so common?" She asked curiously.

"That would make space travel close to impossible. No, it was actually two messages distorted by the same storm. I wanted you to become more familiar with the phenomenon."

She smiled. "Oh, I'm glad you included it. If nothing else, it would look really good one day on the bridge if I was able to identify something so obscure."

"That is certainly true, however, it will be much more practical if you can identify the more common anomalies. So I must ask you to give me your interpretations of the other four recordings, too."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Another ion storm distorted recording was transferred to Nyota a week later.

"Still the same ion storm?" She asked the Commander as soon as she greeted him.

"Yes. It would be good for learning purposes to have another one, since each of them distorts messages a bit differently, but ion storms are not good news generally speaking. Not having any messages like that is actually a positive."

"Well, I suppose I wouldn't really wish to have a couple of starships destroyed just so that I can practice a bit and make sure I can impress someone and end up on the ship where I want to be."

"Only 'suppose'?"

She grinned. "You don't know the power of my ambition, sir."

"Identifying ion storms via subspace messages is not the most common form of impressing officers in charge of assigning Academy graduates to starhips, as far as I know," he stated.

Her smile broadened. "If I want to serve on the Enterprise one day – and I really, really do - I _need_ something uncommon."

Spock paused, then said: "If you indeed do serve on the Enterprise one day, I can assure you that your knowledge of ion storms is going to be completely unnecessary."

Now she was confused: "How come, sir?"

"Because I am to be the science officer of the Enterprise."

For some reason, that calmly confident sentence made her feel very strange indeed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"I'd really like to talk to you more, Grandma, but I'm awaiting a call," Nyota explained to her visiting relative.

The reply was dismissive: "I'm sure you can tell your young man to call some other time."

Nyota and her mother burst out laughing at the same time.

"It isn't Nyny's young man," her mother explained, "it's her teacher, with whom she practices something I don't even know the name of."

The grandmother looked horrified. The younger women burst out laughing again.

"Not like that, grandma!" Nyota shouted. "The teacher is a Vulcan!"

That seemed to calm her grandmother considerably.

"But you are right," Nyota's mother continued, "that he could just as well be her young man, seeing the time they spend in calls. Every day for half an hour..."

"It's not every day and it's not half an hour, Mum," Nyota defended herself.

It was true that the calls from Commander Spock now came usually every other day. The reason for that was, of course, that he didn't have the time to stack up on the recordings and send them in larger bulks. Sometimes it was three days, and a couple of times they really did talk two days in a row, but on such occasions, the talks were very short. Sometimes they did last around twenty minutes, when one of the recordings was particularly intriguing, but half an hour was definitely her mother's imagination at work.

As Nyota went up to her room to receive the call, she thought about Commander Spock. In particular, she thought about him serving on the Enterprise, hopefully with her. The ship really was going to have the best crew of the entire Starfleet, wasn't it? She was surprised to realize she actually had mixed feelings about it. He was a complete genius and a person she could apparently get on with even when they called each other every other day, so those were the pros of the situation. On the other hand, well...it would have been sort of nice to be able to impress someone aboard the ship with her brains. With Spock there, that was not going to happen. No one was going to notice anybody's brains but his.

She sighed and shook her head, disgusted with herself. Was she really such a selfish little girl, craving approval, or did she want the Enterprise to be a good ship all over?

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Why yes, that _was_ a sarcastic dab at the convenient plot device of magnetic storms, so much employed in TOS. Mind-controlling aliens coming some other time.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Good things come to those who wait. Also, I do not own any of them.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

„How did your analysis of the last two recordings go, Ensign?" Spock asked from the screen of Nyota's computer one evening towards the end of August.

She gulped. "I'm sorry, sir, I only managed to listen to one of them."

He raised one of his upswept eyebrows and she just wanted to die of shame. "That is most unusual in you case, Ensign Uhura. Has something happened?"

"Well, nothing serious, really," and why _didn__'__t _she force herself to listen to that bloody recording?, "it's just that...after lunch today, just as I was preparing to work on the recording, I received a messages from my Vulcan teacher. That is, my Vulcan language instructor," she clarified as his brow moved up again. "He announced he will not be able to give me classes any longer."

"How is that possible? Is he resigning his post?"

"No. But Vulcan was one of the languages I studied outside the normal course schedule, because I was too advanced even for the advanced class. There are groups of students like that, and language teachers take them on based on personal agreement. The level of the class is determined by the level of the students, that's the main way it differs from normal classes. It's always advanced, but how advanced exactly changes. We get normal grades in those courses and everything, it's just smaller and more personalized. Well, and my instructor's just sent me a message announcing that I was too advanced even for this special class, that there are going to be new students and that I would demotivate them and frustrate them, that...well, in many ways what you told me in the first SCPS course, sir, only in a language course, it cannot be easily solved by toning it down. I would have to stay silent and not learn anything."

He inclined his head. "I can understand how that is a problem. However, I don't quite see the connection with your failure to listen to the second recording I sent you?"

She sighed and felt absolutely miserable. "Technically, there is none, of course. I'm so sorry. I hate having to admit to this, but I was preoccupied and couldn't really concentrate on the recording." Saying this to the Vulcan, she felt like she was admitting she just murdered someone. "I kept trying to come up with ways to convince the teacher to change his mind, but of course he's a Vulcan, so that's not very likely. I can read and write Vulcan on my own, even listen to it, and I don't need any more grammar classes, but it's absurd to think I could keep my language level without some conversation...Vulcan is my primary language, I really need..." She stopped in the middle of her sentence.

"Ensign Uhura?"

She really, really wasn't sure this was a good idea. Wasn't sure it wasn't actually specieist, like when she'd fetishised his race after she'd first met him – how ashamed of that she was now, when she knew how brilliant he really was as a person, not just as a representative of her favourite culture – or when she wanted to address him in Vulcan on the Academy grounds just because she wanted to show off and could objectify him for this purpose...he was a science teacher, and suggesting he taught her Vulcan seemed to imply that in spite of all of his professional qualifications, his main identifier was still that of his race...but it was her only chance, and so she really, really hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. "Sir," she said hesitatingly, "I really do not like having to bother you again, but do you think you'd consider helping me in this respect, too?"

"I'm not a qualified language instructor, Ensign," he said in that flat tone she had to actively try not to interpret as rejection.

"I know that, sir, but as I told you, I don't need to study grammar anymore. What I need is conversation. If you could spare me any time at all, I would be extremely grateful."

He considered. "Send me your schedule, I will look at it and determine whether there are any times at which we could arrange to meet."

It was probably a good thing they were communicating only via a video call, because Nyota was suddenly overcome by the strangest urge to gratefully press his hand. And he would most certainly not appreciate that.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He called again a day later. Nyota was prepared with a detailed analysis of the unfortunate transmission recording, but that was not what he addressed first.

"I compared our timetables, and it seems the only time that would be available for a meeting that would resemble a regular class would be some day after dinner. That does not seem ideal."

Nyota shrugged. "It's not, but if you were willing to do it, sir, anything would help me."

"I think there's a better solution, if you'd agree to it. You take meals in the cafeteria, correct?"

"Yes, sir," she answered, unsure of where he was going with it.

"We could agree to meet there and converse in Vulcan over lunch, for example. It would mean less time than normal class, but perhaps an increased frequency could compensate for it."

"Sir, that's an excellent solution!" She absolutely beamed at him.

He didn't react to her enthusiasm. "How often would you wish to have these meetings?"

"As usually, sir, every day would be ideal," she said, trying to get her excitement under control, "but however much time you can spare is okay."

"Daily would be acceptable to me. I have to eat in any case, so it does not really cost me much time."

Nyota bit her lip, still smiling. "In that case, I suggest, if I may, to change it from lunch to dinner. My lunch times change frequently based on my timetable and sometimes I don't get to eat lunch at all."

A dignified nod was her answer. "Very well. Dinners are also acceptable. That means 1800 hours, correct?"

"Yes, sir," she was smiling so broadly she was afraid her face would split in half.

"Then we are agreed. Now, as for the transmission recording from last time..."

Nyota's smile, unbelievably, widened: "Magnetic monopole, sir?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

During the family dinner after that conversation, she felt a little dazed. Of course she had known that Commander Spock was not only a genius, but a very kind person too, ever since he agreed to regularly call her during the holidays to help her with her studies. But actually agreeing to meeting with her for dinner every day just because she needed to practice a language, which wasn't even his field...She remembered that Vulcans considered themselves much more moral than humans. She was beginning to see their point. Commander Spock's heart was obviously made of gold.

Nyota realized several things. One of them was that Gaila was going to completely forsake her when she learned that Nyota agreed to spend every dinner of every day with a teacher, studying Vulcan, instead of being out doing something. Another was that she was going to have a great way to refuse Kirk's constant offers of going out with him. And the last was that finally, she'd be able to do what she wanted to do ever since she met Commander Spock. She would be able to talk to him in Vulcan.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As for Spock, he sat in his office considering his decision. He had been fairly certain it was logical, but the Ensign's obvious emotional reaction gave him a pause. In another human he would have paid it no mind, but Ensign Uhura was normally in good control of her emotions, and so such a lapse indicated something extraordinary. Would an entirely logical decision on his side have caused such a display?

He went over the facts again. He had the time. In this respect it was actually easier than the video calls he was giving her, since those ended up taking much more time than he had originally estimated. It was compensated, however, by occasional stimulating discussions, and by watching the ensign's abilities growing, and so, overly, he was not displeased.

But at any rate, the time he required for consuming his meal was only twenty minutes, and he estimated conversing in its course would not prolong it by more than thirty per cent. He could easily afford that. So far, it was logical.

He had the required knowledge, too. As long as she was correct in her estimate that she didn't need formal language training, just conversation, he was certainly qualified enough. If she was wrong, it would show in the first two or three meetings and then he would have to cancel, of course. Again, logical.

She needed his help, and there was no one else who could provide it. There was only one other Vulcan at the Academy, and that was the teacher who rejected her. The other teachers of Vulcan were humans and both taught less advanced classes, making him believe they were not quite knowledgeable enough to be able to help Ensign Uhura. Their pronunciation was certainly far from perfect, he had been able to ascertain that already in his short encounters with them in the course of his time at the Academy.

It would be more logical for the Vulcan language instructor to help Ensign Uhura in such a manner, but since he suggested no such thing in his missive about expelling her from his classes, it was logical to suppose he did not intend to offer. Given that, Spock himself was the logical alternative.

Yet there was Ensign Uhura's emotional reaction. She seemed overwhelmed by his offer. Perhaps it was precisely because her language teacher, the one who primarily should have, suggested no such thing? That sounded like an oversight to Spock, but then he didn't know how busy the teacher's schedule really was. If it was busy, however, it would be illogical for Ensign Uhura to be surprised that he couldn't offer her assistance, and that Spock could. If it was not busy, it would be strange for a Vulcan to omit such an obvious suggestion. After all, the primary function of a teacher was to help his or her students develop the skill area for which he or she was responsible.

But perhaps the Vulcan professor's schedule was busy and Ensign Uhura was not aware of it. Yes, that would explain the situation quite satisfactorily. She would presume there was a logical reason for not offering such a thing, since it was a Vulcan not making that offer, and would then be surprised to see another Vulcan, one who had less responsibility for her in that respect, suggest it, and she would react emotionally.

Satisfied with his solution to the riddle, Spock opened the first of the scientific articles prepared for the day and started to read.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: So Nyota's a junior now. Such a big girl...and I still don't own her. And what's worse, I don't own Spock either. Who wouldn't want a pet Spock?

Italic means that what I am writing is theoretically a translation into English. In this case (and in most cases in this story), it means they're speaking Vulcan, which I'm sure you could have figured out on your own.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The first evening of the new semester, Nyota was extremely nervous. She had been practicing Vulcan constantly in the last two weeks, neglecting her other languages, wanting to make sure she was perfect. In her afternoon class on Monday, Deltan, she could hardly make herself pay attention. The ninety minutes between then and dinnertime were spent by frantically going over the Vulcan phonetics. And then there was nothing left but to go and face the Vulcan himself.

She took great care to be exactly on time, and so she met him in the doorway.

She took a deep breath.

"T'nar pak sorat y'rani, pudor-tor zhel-lan Spohkh." she said, clearly, but fluently.

He raised one eyebrow. "T'nar jaral, putun-tor wuh-lan Uhura," he replied, inclining his head. And so, Nyota thought, it begins.

They moved to the food counter and selected their meals in silence. After they took their places, however, he turned to her. "_How was your first day of the new semester?_"

She paused in bringing her food to her mouth: "_You honour me by asking, Esteemed Commander. It was adequate. I had Arcadian and Kasheeta classes, which continue in the same style they had last year. A new class for me is Basic Mechanics_."

"_Was it informative?_" He asked as he poured dressing over his salad.

"_First lessons of new courses rarely are. But it does appear I will be learning things I will need in practice, which is worth appreciating_."

Spock inclined his head. "_When I saw your course schedule, I was surprised to note how many languages you were studying. Is that usual among the xenolinguists?_"

Nyota considered. "_It is indeed usual to go above the minimal number of four languages that is required by the Academy to be accepted as a communitations major. The college where I studied before required six languages of us upon graduating. It was not singular in this requirement, so that is the most usual number of languages known among my co-students, even though the level of their understanding of said languages differs widely, naturally. I do know a number of students who go above six in their knowledge_."

He raised one eyebrow. "_How many languages do you yourself speak? I did not count them why looking at your timetable._"

Nyota most certainly did. The number never seemed quite sufficient. "_Nine non-Earth languages. This year, I'm starting my tenth. But I have only been studying Caitian for two years, so I can hardly be called proficient in that._"

"_Implying you are actually proficient in all the rest?_"

He is a Vulcan, Nyota reminded herself. Calm honesty is expected. "_Yes, Esteemed Commander. To be more precise, doubts could be raised about my Arcadian. I am now taking Arcadian Nine. That means I have not completed the full Academy curriculum in the language, which has ten levels, so it could be argued that my proficiency is not guaranteed. However, I have tested out of level ten in all the other languages I am studying, except Caitian, as I have mentioned, and Orion, which I am only starting now_."

He appeared to listen attentively to her explanation, and he asked: "_Are there any other students at this school who know so many non-Earth languages?_"

She tried to keep the pride out of her voice. "_Not that I know of, Esteemed Commander_."

"_Fascinating._"

Overly, Nyota thought she did very well for her first time. However, she realized she had a problem. Now that she heard Spock speak in Vulcan, hearing him speak English would never seem right again. She couldn't really say why, but his personality appeared to be expressed so much better in his native tongue. Making him speak Standard was just sacrilege.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

On his way from dinner to his quarters, Spock contemplated Ensign Uhura again. His estimated chance of her being an exceptional communications officer has now moved up to ninety-three per cent. Not only has she persevered through the summer and her analyses were becoming better and better, he now heard her speak one of the languages she studied. Of course, he was aware that it was her main language and she was bound to be less proficient in others, but the impression she made was not much diminished by that. He has never heard any non-Vulcan speak his native tongue so well. He never talked to a human university instructor of Vulcan, of course, so his points of reference weren't perfect, but he certainly knew that Ensign Uhura spoke better than the human instructors of Vulcan that could be found at the Academy. Her pronunciation was ninety-nine point six per cent perfect, something he would not have even thought possible, since the human pharynx was formed slightly differently from the Vulcan one. It was all very fascinating indeed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Gaila's reaction was precisely as Nyota had expected.

"Every day?" She asked increduously.

"Yes," Nyota confirmed calmly. "It's tremenduously kind of him."

"And tremenduously stupid of you. Why would you agree to it?"

"I didn't agree to it, I asked for it."

Gaila's hands flew into the air. "That just makes it so much worse! What about our evenings out?"

"We can still have evenings out after I have dinner in the cafeteria. But don't say that to Kirk, I intend to use Spock as an excuse."

"Well, there certainly is a good chance that after he hears about this, he'll stop being interested in you – there's a point beyond which swotiness stops being cute, you know."

"I wish. With my luck, he'll just try to get my first name out of Spock."

Now _there_ was a mortifying thought.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_Today was most pleasing, and I do not mean only because I had a class with you, Esteemed Commander_."

He looked up from his pasta. "_I would not have assumed so_."

Nyota was quick to show off the vocabulary she looked up specifically for this purpose. "_I had Sublight Communication, a course which perhaps will not be the most inspiring, but is eminently practical. Then Phonological Transmission Analysis, which is pleasing because it brings me back to actual linguistic subjects, something I haven't done for two years. And then Deducing Meaning in Communication, a course not unlike yours in some respects, only we use our reasoning skills in a different field, and it requires a different kind of talent_."

He seemed interested, if something like that can be said about a member of a species that doesn't display emotions. "_Specify, please_."

"_We are expected to learn to deduce meaning of a speech or text in a language unfamiliar to us, or only very slightly familiar._"

He raised one eyebrow. "_But can this be done?_"

She shrugged. "_If the text is in an unknown script and we do not know what type of source we are working with, then no. Speech is better. There are xenopsychological factors that can be employed to deduce the intention of the speaker. However, it is more difficult in other ways – you usually have less time to work, and are frequently under pressure._"

"_That is logical. I would be interested to hear more about this course, when you have had more classes_."

Nyota smiled a little. "_I will gladly share all the information I receive, Esteemed Commander_."

He inclined his head in acknowledgment, then changed the topic: "_You mentioned you haven't been studying linguistic subjects for a long time. How is that possible?_"

"_I tested out of all linguistic theory classes, just as most cadets with a degree in xenolinguistics do_."

"_Why does the Academy offer the classes, then?_"

"_Bachelor's degree in xenolinguistics is not required to apply for a communications major, even though most of us do have precisely that," _Nyota explained._ "There are, however, some students who come with more technical backgrounds. Those test out of all the technical courses and study the linguistic instead._"

"_Isn't their language knowledge usually somewhat lacking?_"

"_Frequently, yes. However, from what I have been told, there is a place for those more technically minded communications officers in Starfleet too. On ships patrolling the space close to Earth, for example. Xenolanguages are rarely required there, and technical proficiency is appreciated more._"

"_I will not meet one of them aboard the Enterprise, then,_" he stated.

"_No, sir_," she smiled. "_I hope you will not meet any of my other co-students aboard the Enterprise either_."

His eyebrow went up again. "_Is that not rather selfish of you? There is more than one position in the communication department, after all_."

"_But only one of them, if any, is likely to be filled by an officer fresh out of the Academy. It is selfish, of course – all ambition is selfish, because where we succeed, someone else must usually fail. But I hope that by succeeding, I will give good service to Starfleet, and that will perhaps diminish the transgression of my selfishness._"

"_Once again, I must concur that your thought process is very logical_."

You say the sweetest things, Nyota thought and had to fight a giggle.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: I apologize to the reviewer who kept hoping that Spock would have a strong reaction to Nyota speaking Vulcan. There _will_ be a relatively - for Spock - strong reaction connected to Nyota and Vulcan, but that will be a few chapters later. I warned you all I was taking it slow. :) And, he did have some kind of reaction. Just not such a huge one.

Also, a note on Nyota's languages. I often come across her speaking "80% of known languages," or something like that, in fanfiction. Now, unless they invented a way to implant language knowledge directly into people's heads in 23rd century - and there's no mention of that in canon, they rather concentrated on universal translators - that is simply not possible. It's doubly impossible with her being only in her mid-twenties. I have spent most of my life studying languages, so I tried to add a whole lot of talent and work ethics that I don't have and Nyota does and arrive at a number and level of proficiency that seemed reasonable. So, ten languages it is, for the moment. (Not counting dialects and similar languages, like Vulcan and Romulan, of course.)


	8. Chapter 8

AN: The official timeline implies that Spock hadn't served aboard a starship before the beginning of the 2009 film. That is one of the things that make no sense and therefore I am ignoring them (there is simply no way he would have got first officer-ship without having previous experience with serving aboard a ship. No way). It is also one of the things that would have been different if owned this. Unfortunately, I don't. You see? We'd all be so much better off if I did. Me in particular.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_When did you start s__tudying the Vulcan language?_" Spock asked Nyota as they sat down to Sunday dinner, apparently missing the conversation topic of her classes during the weekend.

"_When I was six years old_," she replied. As she'd predicted, that answer was followed by a raised eyebrow.

"_Fascinating. I wasn't aware they teach xenolanguages so soon at Earth's schools_."

She shook her head. "_Usually, they don't. There was precisely one school in the African Union which offered this_."

"_And why did your parents decide that was the school they wanted you to go to, if I may inquire?_"

Nyota shrugged. "_I was raised bilingual, speaking Swahili and English. My parents reasoned that with English, I will be able to communicate everywhere on Earth, and so they considered it reasonable to make me study some non-Earth language._"

Spock tilted his head to the side. "_That thought is only logical if they expected you to be frequently off planet, which, as far as I know, is still not the case for the majority of Earth citizens_."

"_Or if they expected me to spend a lot of time in cosmopolitan cities_."

"_You have just stated that you can communicate in Standard everywhere on Earth_."

Nyota put down her fork and concentrated fully on the conversation. "_That is correct. But it is courteous to be able to communicate with other species in their language, and it broadens the mind to know xenolanguages. My parents wanted to raise me in a cosmopolitan spirit, not as a terrocentric arrogant creature._"

He remained unconvinced. "_But couldn't the same argument be made for learning other Earth languages? Surely the hegemony of Standard is a form of anglo-centrism?_"

She nodded. "_Yes, but that is centuries old. The damage, if it is damage, is done already, and now English simply is the universal language of Earth." _She paused_. "I think my parents hope it will not at least end up being the universal language of the Galaxy, and they believe that making children study non-Earth languages is a step in that direction. Plus, I think they maybe expected me to study additional Earth languages when I got older. But I already knew two before I went to school, so it made sense to start with one non-Earth. They couldn't have known I was going to become so fascinated with xenolinguistics_."

He inclined his head in acknowledgement of the presented argument. "_And why did they choose Vulcan for you, of all languages_?"

Nyota smiled: "_Well, that was entirely logical, Esteemed Commander_."

"_That argument, I believe, is cyclical. In this sense, it is logical to choose Vulcan if you believe languages should be logical, which is by no means a belief shared by everyone_."

Her smile broadened. "_You are right, of course. It was a,"_ a pun, but how to express that in Vulcan?_ "...a game with words on my part. The real logic behind it is that my parents would have wanted to pick one of the founding languages of the Federation, and well, would you really want to teach your six years old child Andorian or Tellarite?_"

"_Many parents would say they would not want to teach their children Vulcan either," _he commented_. "One of the objections against Vulcan training in logic I have heard more often is that we start too soon in training children, that we destroy their childhoods_."

"_That is certainly not something my parents would have agreed with. They never had a sentimental view of childhood. Of course they believed I should be able to relax and," _here Nyota hesitated again, this time trying to find the proper way to express 'play' in Vulcan_, "pass my time in enjoyable activities which are not dictated by logic, but then they believe the same about adults, so there is no difference. And apart from that, they think childhood is a preparation for adulthood, and as such, learning logic in early stages is beneficial. I believe that the discipline inherently present in your culture was actually an additional reason they wanted me to study Vulcan. And it meant I was in class with other students whose parents thought the same way, which made for a quiet, pleasant studying atmosphere. I'm very grateful to them for the choice._"

Spock paused to consider. "_It appears it was, indeed, very well thought out_."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota wondered if it was just her impression or if the people in this semester's advanced SCPS were much less talented than in the last year's class. Three of the juniors from last year were continuing, and they were all right, but the rest...It was only the second lesson of the year, and already she was getting frustrated. At the moment, for example, they were discussing a recording which seemed trivial to her, yet the senior – senior! – Spock was quizzing about it was completely clueless. She was pretty sure this was basic SCPS material, at least to a degree. She supposed taking this course two years after the basic one made it a bit more difficult than her situation was, but still.

"So you have no theory at all?" The Commander was asking.

"Well, um, I guess there's a topological defect of some sort involved..."

Finally, Nyota thought, just as Spock said: "Correct. What kind of topological defect?"

The cadet shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, I have no idea."

"Does anybody else have any theories?"

Nyota and the three seniors she knew all raised their hands.

"Ensign Shram?" Spock called on the young Andorian.

The student stood at attention. "I believe the message was deformed by a cosmic string, sir."

"Correct. How did you arrive at that conclusion?"

"It resembled other messages distorted by cosmic strings I have heard in your courses, sir," Shram recited.

Spock nodded. "That is a good enough way to identify it in practice, yes. However, for those who have less eidetic memory, would anybody be able to describe by what logical thought process can we arrive at that conclusion?"

This time, it was only Nyota who raised her hand. "Yes, Ensign Uhura?"

"What we have to look for, sir, is an indication of how many-dimensional the topological defect was. It shows in the way the message is distorted." She paused. It all seemed so very obvious to her, but since he asked for an explanation, she continued: "There are clear indications showing that what this message encountered was a one-dimensional disturbance..."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_Do you feel thankful it is Friday already?_" Spock asked as Nyota took the first bite of her steak.

She shrugged and swallowed before answering: "_Not particularly. I actually like most of my classes. But I was glad in the morning, because we had our first simulation today_."

He turned his eyes to her, presumably in curiosity: "_How would you describe the experience?_"

"_It was extremely interesting. I mean, I have had my share of simulations of communication, of course, but the simulation of the entire bridge is another thing completely. Even though it makes me wonder – it will be several years before I'll be working on the bridge, it is really useful to have the simulations now?_"

"_Later, there will be no time for simulations," _Spock said in his lecture voice, which was only discernable from his normal voice thanks to Nyota's exceptional aural sensitivity._ "You will most likely not be going back to the Academy between your ship assignments. So the only chance you have of training is here. The instructors simply have to hope that you will not forget everything you learn before you find yourself on the bridge_."

"_It is true that I get simulation of what I will be doing in the communications department in my communications classes, so there's no need for core classes on that_," she paused. "_Esteemed Commander, you said that I will most likely not go back to the Academy between missions. What did you mean – most likely?_"

"_Simply that it is unlikely, but not impossible_," he answered in the typical Vulcan fashion – exactly what she asked, but not her question at all.

She rephrased: "_People do that sometimes_?"

"_I did_."

"_You did? Why?_"

The normal voice was back. "_I had been serving under Captain Pike before the ship we worked on was determined too old for use. The Captain was assigned to have the Enterprise when it is completed, and decided he wanted to spend the interim years on Earth instead of taking just one short assignment aboard another ship. I decided to follow his example and spend the years teaching at the Academy._"

"_Oh, I see. You mean as a teacher. You are in the interim years now._"

"_Yes."_

"_I thought you meant as a student. Since you talked about the opportunity of training in simulations..._" she trailed off.

"_The opportunity exists even when you are a teacher," _he explained_. "No one would deny me the option if I thought I was in need of some additional training._"

Nyota smiled a little, wanting to test his usual Vulcan self-confidence: "_But you aren't, I assume_."

"_I spent five years on the bridge of the USS Potemkin," _he replied calmly as ever_. "I do not think I am going to forget what I learned there in the five years I am scheduled to spend at the Academy_."

She was surprised. "_You spent so much time serving on a starship? I thought it was just a short period...how long exactly?_"

"_Six years, two weeks and seven hours_."

Now she was downright astonished. "Y_ou were promoted to a bridge officer after a year of service?_"

"_One year, three months, eleven days and three hours, to be precise._"

"_That is...very impressive, Esteemed Commander. Not that I am surprised, but still_." She was. If anybody could do that, it was him, but she didn't think it was possible in Starfleet at all, to skip rank so quickly.

"_I was promoted because the previous science officer died in service. It is not a positive memory for me, Supervised Ensign_."

"_I grieve with thee_," Nyota replied, immediately turning serious. "_I did not mean to bring up unpleasant memories._"

"_It has been a long time. I merely wanted to point out that it was not on my merits that I got the promotion_."

Yeah right, because I'm sure there were no senior scientists and so the task of being the science officer fell to you, a guy who was just a year out of the Academy. I'm sure it had nothing to do with you being a complete genius at all, Nyota thought sarcastically, but decided to let the matter be.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Supervised Ensign – actually an inaccurate translation of the Vulcan term putun-tor wuh-lan, which I made up, and which is supposed to be the counterweight to Nyota's pudor-tor zhel-lan – Esteemed Commander. Pudor-tor is meant to be used as a honorific by a person in an inferior position for a person in a superior position, and putun-tor is meant to be used the other way round. It's derived from tun, which is Vulcan for "watchful oversight; charge or supervision; attentive assistance or treatment to those in need; a burdened state of mind, as that arising from heavy responsibilities; worry" (quoted from VLD), so it could also be rendered as Watched-over Ensign or Cared-for Ensign, but those translations sounded too emotional in English, so I went with the impersonal Supervised.


	9. Chapter 9

AN: I don't own a single Vulcan eyebrow.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As the September sun was setting behind the cafeteria windows and Nyota was contemplating her unusual Andorian meal, Spock came up with a conversation topic: „_You mentioned your strong fascination with xenolinguistics in one of your previous talks. How did you come to that?_"

Nyota tore her eyes from the suspicious turquoise jelly to look at him. "_It is difficult to say exactly. I know I have admired the Vulcan language and culture ever since I first started to study it. I had an excellent teacher in elementary school, so that probably played a crucial role. When I was nine and my parents asked what other language I wanted to study, if an Earth one or a non-Earth one, I think I choose a non-Earth language because of my affection for everything Vulcan. Of course, my second xenolanguage was Andorian, so there was no admiration born out of that_."

He shot her a look. "_As a xenolinguist, you really shouldn't be so dismissive of other cultures_."

Nyota cringed. "_I apologise, Esteemed Commander. I merely meant that as a child who was impressed by Vulcans, I could hardly be impressed by Andorians. It requires very different characters_."

"_You are probably correct in that. Yet you continued your studies of xenolanguages afterwards_."

She shrugged. "_I started to be intrigued, I think. Were Vulcans really so exceptional? My next language was Tellarite, which seemed to confirm it. But by then, I was already fascinated by xenolanguages as such – the different structures, different ways of forming vowels, ... I wanted to know as many languages as I could to be able to compare them. It became my goal to learn every language of the Federation._"

Spock tilted his head to the side. "_And what conclusions did you reach about the exceptionality of the Vulcans_?"

Nyota laughed: "_I thought Vulcans didn't, as a general rule, do..._" and now to express compliments in a language that didn't know the concept, "_stating of positive features of others in order to make them feel better about themselves, neither they sought them?_"

The eyebrows went up. "_We do not. I merely wanted to know the result of your study_."

"_Of course," _she smirked_. "Well, from my point of view, Vulcans are very exceptional. Of course, every culture is unique, but they are exceptional in the sense that it is the only xenoculture to which I have formed such a strong attachment. I have preference for some other languages I study, too, because I find the structure of the grammar system or the sounds pleasing, but as far as cultures as a whole go, Vulcan was my first love which is probably going to last me my whole life._"

As he listened, his face seemed to lose something of its immobility – if that was at all possible – and he said: "_It is fascinating to hear you speak so emotionally of Vulcan, and in Vulcan, too._"

Her grin broadened. "_I know, it sounds wrong to me to. But you did ask. I try to avoid expressing my emotions when speaking with you, Esteemed Commander, and especially when speaking with you in Vulcan, but there was simply no other way to answer your question_."

He fixed her with a look. "_You do not have to avoid expressing emotions when speaking with me, Supervised Ensign. I have lived outside Vulcan for twelve point three years now. I am used to the human emotional way of communicating_."

She nodded. "_I know you must be, but it simply seems polite to avoid it anyway, when it's not necessary_."

"_I appreciate your regard for my comfort_," he paused. "_Seven point three minutes ago, you said something which intrigued me. You defined a Standard word that the Vulcan language does not posses. As a part of the definition, you used the phrase 'in order to make them feel better about themselves.' It surprised me. I was under the impression that the purpose was more often to ingrain oneself in another's good graces?"_

Nyota looked at her food_. "This just shows how much does the way we translate certain thing say about us. It does have both uses, of course, and I simply mentioned the one that sprang first to my mind."_

"_You seem dissatisfied with it. I would have expected it to be a good thing that you do not primarily think of these social forms of communication as manipulative."_

She sighed_. "Perhaps. My point of view was different – I considered how my definition revealed my own self-doubt. I simply mentioned what these...social forms – do to me."_

"_They actually – as you said – make you feel better about yourself?"_

"_Yes." _He looked puzzled, and Nyota smiled_. "You wouldn't understand."_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

While Nyota didn't necessarily agree that surviving a month back at school was a cause for celebration, she didn't see a reason not to go out with her friends. She didn't have any pressing tasks that needed her attention, everything could wait. She did set the condition that they'd go after dinner, however, which made Gaila grumble, but only good-naturedly.

At 2000 hours, they were already taking seats in their favourite bar, The Space Bay. Most of the establishments around campus were space-themed, something she appreciated as she sipped her Vulcan Society.

Gaila smirked at her. "I would think you had enough Vulcan society lately to want to have more in your free time, or what remained of it."

Nyota raised her eyebrows. "You know I can never have enough of anything Vulcan."

"Let's see how long that conviction lasts, now that your contact with Mr. No Sense Of Humour is more regular."

"Gaila, shut up. I know you didn't enjoy the class you had with him, but I'm pretty sure the problem was on your side."

"It was," Ines, who was an engineering major like Gaila, agreed. "I mean the classes weren't the most amusing things ever, but they were really informative and it was actually a challenge to find solutions to the problems he presented. I think Gaila just didn't like that her charms didn't work on Spock."

The Orion stuck out her tongue. "I don't seduce teachers, you know. I actually care about my career."

Nyota laughed. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy the feeling that if you tried, most of them would have been more than glad."

"Okay, okay. I give up. You teamed up against me. You all apparently love the uptight Vulcan society."

"It's not uptight at all," Nyota corrected. "The Vulcan spices give it a much deeper and more interesting flavour, making it one of the most appetizing choices on offer."

Gaila sputtered into her drink.

"And you know how much I love cocktails based on gin," Nyota finished innocently.

"I'm never going to see Spock in the same light again," her Orion friend complained.

"I'm sure one class with him would be enough to set that to right," Ines commented drily, and Gaila shook her head. "No, thank you, I think I will pass. Why are we talking about him anyway? I get enough of that from Ny all the time. I wanted a break." She turned to the fourth girl seated at their table. "What about you, Aisha, do you have any other conversational topics, hopefully not Vulcan-related?"

Aisha smiled and sipped her Virgin Mojito. "Well, I did want to ask what you guys thought about what Jones said yesterday."

"Seriously, do you even have to ask? I thought it was established that man was an idiot."

"I know, but that seemed to me even worse than usual."

"I agree," Nyota joined the conversation. "He basically said that Andorians were violent barbarians. Now it's not my favourite culture or anything, but seriously."

"I know," Ines agreed. "And he completely ignored that artistic aspect of their culture – like all they could do was shoot at you."

"Right, because you guys would have totally founded the Federation with someone like that." Gaila sighed. "Okay, so Jones is an even bigger idiot than we thought. I hope this is where our discoveries in this respect end."

"We should drink to that," Ines commented and Nyota agreed. "I'll get us some shots."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Few weeks later, at the end of one of their conversation sessions, Spock suddenly turned to Nyota and said in English: "See me in my office tomorrow, if you can."

Nyota was confused. What was it he couldn't tell her during her conversation classes, and why did he switch to English? She supposed it was probably something rather more official, and so it should be dealt with in the official language of the Academy, but she was at a loss as to what it could be. She was nervous whole morning, and was glad when she finally could make her way to Spock's office after lunch.

"You wished to see me, Commander Spock."

"Yes, Ensign Uhura. Sit down."

She cringed, as always when she heard him speak English lately, and sat.

"What I have to ask of you now is very similar to what I asked of you a year ago, and what your instructor of Vulcan stated just this summer. I regret to inform you that your participation in my advanced subspace communication problem solving class is no longer possible. I will let you finish this semester, of course, but you cannot continue in the next."

Nyota had to bite her lip to contain her first emotional reaction. "But why, sir?" She asked at length.

"The same reason as before. In a way, I did you a disservice by coaching you over the summer. Combined with your exceptional aural sensitivity, you are now much more advanced than other students in that group. You learn nothing there, and they are frustrated by your superiority."

She sighed. "I really don't want to be a bother again."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, sir, I am constantly asking you to do something exceptional for me, and now obviously I have to do it again and ask you to coach me personally once more in SCPS. I know it is logical, yet at the same time, I also feel it makes really unreasonable demands on your time."

"I believe I have told you already that helping a talented, diligent student is worth some additional time." He paused, apparently considering. "I would not wish the hard work you did over the summer to go to waste, so if you are willing, I will coach you again."

"Of course I'm willing, sir. Working with you individually has been extremely interesting and beneficial for me."

He didn't acknowledge the compliment in any way, nor did she expect him to. Instead, he continued: "We have already established that there are only the evenings open to us. What do you say to the idea of meeting in the long range sensor laboratory twice a week for forty-five minutes?"

"That would be perfect, sir," she agreed.

"And which days would be most convenient to you?"

She considered. "Would Tuesday and Thursday be possible?"

"Certainly," he paused. "We will begin with these meetings in the new semester, then."

"Yes sir. Have a good afternoon," and then she smiled and added: "Dungau gla-tor nash-veh du na' aru-yem, pudor-tor zhel-lan."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

That was the first time Spock wasn't certain if his decision regarding Ensign Uhura was completely logical.

Ninety minutes per week was a substantial amount of time. He could not precisely say that he couldn't afford it, but it would be impossible to find this time without sacrificing it elsewhere, namely, without cutting the time he spent in his pastimes. The lute and chess would suffer for it. And Ensign Uhura didn't technically need his help – her ability to analyze subspace transmissions was certainly good enough for a bridge position aboard any starship. It was true, of course, that she would loose much of her touch if she didn't practice in the remaining three semesters that separated her from her first assignment, but she could easily practice without his direct assistance. The situation was much less dire than with her Vulcan.

Had he had time to think about it properly, perhaps he would have refused her request. But she'd surprised him, and he hadn't wanted to offend her - she was human, it could happen, he reminded himself – and so he accepted instead.

It was a bit puzzling it hadn't occurred to him in advance that she would ask for such private classes. He'd underestimated her work ethics again, he hadn't supposed she would want to spend more additional time in individual studies with him, apart from her Vulcan. He had been wrong, of course, and ninety minutes of his time every week were the price he was going to pay for it. He contemplated the situation and discovered that he didn't mind, and that he found her company equally pleasing as playing the lute or chess, and so, as it was more difficult to obtain, that was what really led him to accept her request. That deserved some thought.

He relocated to his quarters and his meditation stool came to a good use. The result was satisfactory. He detected nothing inappropriate, only simple mild pleasure derived from her company, and that was, he realized, eminently practical. If he could help a student and at the same time enjoy the benefits normally granted by a pastime, namely certain relaxation that enabled him to work more efficiently later, then that was surely the ideal situation. Satisfied, he took advantage of that benefit immediately and set to work.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: * I will see you at dinner, Esteemed Commander.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: In this one, I am – among other things – attempting to answer a question that has been bothering me.

Also, not a hair on Nyota's head is mine.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Spock seemed to wait for something before staring on his dinner that November evening, and when Nyota looked up at him questioningly, he said: „_There is one question I have been meaning to ask you for some time now, but I hesitated, not wanting to offend_."

"_There is no offense where none is taken, Esteemed Commander_."

Spock blinked, then inclined his head. "_It concerns your work. It is my understanding that universal translators are now used fleet-wide, on every ship. Under these circumstances, what is the purpose of a xenolinguist aboard?_"

Now Nyota saw why he thought she might be offended. Not that he was the first to ask her that, on the contrary, it was the question xenolinguists were asked at the Academy all the time, and unanimously hated. But he, at least, was not asking sarcastically, and he had not already formed his own answer.

"_Universal translators are approximate at best. It is true that in case of some very well known languages, for which we have enough data, they can even translate aphorisms and such, but usually, that is not the case. They are too literal, they often do not produce the correct word order, they cannot grasp the correct meaning of a word from context...they don't understand emphasis, they can't take into account body language...there are many problems._"

He'd finally started to eat, and now he paused to ask: "_But are they not widely used on ships? How is that possible, if they are so problematic?_"

"_Well, xenolinguists are not omnipotent either. We are limited by the number of languages we actually know. When meeting a new species, universal translators are invaluable. For communication with those, the best option is actually universal translator combined with a xenolinguist. I'm going to have a class on that next year, working with a universal translator. It gives us probable word meanings derived from speech patterns, and we work with it to understand better, to catch nuances, to perfect the translation into English, to take into account non-verbal communication – that's where this year's class on deducing meaning comes in. I think that is an interesting option. And universal translator is useful when encountering a language the ship's xenolinguist doesn't know. We are still trained to smooth the translation over, even if we don't know the language. There are some universal rules which can be applied._"

"_How so? When the language is completely unfamiliar..._"

Nyota was rather enjoying that it was her who was explaining something to him this time around. "_When there is enough time, the xenolinguist can actually search for some basic information about it. When there is not, they can at least transform the English sentences that are being translated into the clearest formulations that are easiest for the universal translator to deal with. We're trained in that very thoroughly, but it's all advanced classes I will have next year_."

Spock nodded. "_It is always fascinating_," he said, "_to learn details about a field of study with which I had very little contact. My own specialization is very broad, but there are still so very many things I know nothing about..._"

Nyota smiled. "_And imagine how I must feel, since my own field of study is very narrow_."

He raised his eyebrow: "_Supervised Ensign Uhura, you are studying ten languages. I do not think your field of study can be called narrow by any definition. If 'the borders of my language are the borders of my world', you are studying ten worlds at once_."

The warm feeling that spread in her belly had, she was quite sure, nothing to do with the spicy pho she was eating for dinner. Well, she thought, once again a confirmation that I really do need compliments to feel good about myself.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As Spock walked back to his quarters from the cafeteria, one moment from that dinner came to his mind. Ensign Uhura, stating in her impossibly perfect Vulcan: "Nam-tor ri thrap wilat nem-tor rim, pudor-tor zhel-lan." He was already used to her speaking his first language in a way which would make her pass for a Vulcan if she wasn't seen, but this was another level. The response was culturally perfect, perfect in intonation, it was simply, in all ways, precisely what a Vulcan would have said in her situation. It made him uncomfortable, if he allowed himself to admit it, because it reminded him of his youth on Vulcan. When his family said such things to him, it was always with a slightly chiding intention. There is no sense in talking about offense, Spock, they were really saying. Do not be so very human. Of course he knew, logically, that this case was different. He was communicating with a human, and so assuming she might take offense was a logical precaution. But he was still reminded of his childhood, and the fact that she, a human female, had the ability to remind him of it disquieted him. And there was another layer of confusion over it, too. Contrary to his relatives, she was not chiding. Her honorific carried the intonation of real respect. That added a twist to his childhood memories which he did not completely understand, and which contributed to his need to meditate a little longer that evening.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota's lazy Saturday morning with an Arcadian epic was interrupted by a call from her parents. Gaila was away somewhere, unsurprisingly, and Nyota was glad she had a moment to talk to her family in peace.

"How are you, Ny?" Her father asked the moment she greeted them.

"Fine, thanks. Relaxed. But missing sun, it's cold and rainy here. Exceptionally cold and rainy, I mean, even for San Francisco. This year has been pretty bad."

Her mother laughed. "It's a curse, isn't it? You get the most rain both there and here. The weather is lovely here right now."

Nyota groaned. "Please, tell me about it. I need to at least hear stories about sun."

"But you said you were relaxed, so apparently it's not so bad."

"No, everything's good. I'm doing all right with school work, enough that I can even afford curling up with an Arcadian book on a morning like this...there are no interesting news, though."

Her father smiled. "Any young men we should know about?"

Nyota winced. "No, dad. I'd tell you if there were."

There was an answering sigh. "Just don't live only for school, okay? You should enjoy yourself."

"I am. I like what I am studying."

"Not just like that."

"We go out with my friends from time to time, to drink and sometimes to dance, if that makes you feel better."

"It does, but I don't think it's enough."

Nyota closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she saw her mother pressing her father's forearm. "Let it go, Mutahi." She smiled at her daughter. "Just do whatever you want to do, and don't feel pressured."

Nyota nodded, but, as ashamed as it made her feel, she was relieved when the call was over.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was some time before there was an opportunity for Nyota to ask a question which had been bothering her for ages, and even more so lately. "_A few weeks ago, you talked about the broad field you have studied. I confess I have looked at your curriculum vitae, and so I saw what your majors at college were. One thing confuses me, then: how did you get around to teaching Subspace Communication Problem Solving? It doesn't have much to do with your original specialization, does it?_"

"_No," _Spock agreed_. "But somebody has to teach it, and those who worked as science officers before are best qualified, since science officers are the ones expected to know how to deal with anomalies and suspicious things we encounter. And at any rate, it is not the only subject I tech, nor, I would say, the main one_."

Nyota felt a little hurt by that, but firmly squashed the feeling. She really shouldn't be imagining she was some kind of his prize student just because she was the one who bothered him the most. "_What other subjects do you teach, then? Something in the science specialization, I assume?_"

"_Yes, and one course for the engineers, too. Most of my courses actually deal with problem solving, because my experience on an actual exploring starship helps with it a lot. There is one course like that for the engineers and one for the scientists. Then, I teach advanced..._" and now followed a word Nyota didn't know, "_physics and..._" and she despaired. This was precisely the situation she had hoped would never happen. She started to blush, and was glad that it didn't really show on her skin. But there was no way around it, she'd have to ask. She only understood the prepositions in the name of the second course. She firmly repeated to herself that they were actually having these conversations with the purpose of her learning Vulcan, and so not asking about Vulcan words she didn't know would be absolutely illogical – oh, the irony.

"_I'm sorry, Esteemed Commander, I do not understand the words used in the names of your courses_," she said, very quietly.

He raised one eyebrow. "Vunai-tor-tal _is the study of regions of space characterized by a physical property_. Ha'gal svi' wak'gal-zehl _is the study of the role of the"_...particle? She thought so "_of light in interaction with the time particle_. _That is a very specialized subject_."

"_Couldn't you just tell me the English translations, please?_"

The other eyebrow went up. Please, kill me now.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN. 'the borders of my language are the borders of my world' - Wittgenstein. Isn't it just like Spock to quote obscure 20th century Earth philosophers?

Also, that was the sort-of emotional reaction to Nyota's Vulcan I promised.

Um, and – review? Please?


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Thanks for the reviews, apparently asking for them really helps. :)

I still do not own this. Likely, that's not gonna change.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As they hid in the warmth of the cafeteria from the early December cold and rain, Spock turned to Nyota, standing behind him in the line: „_Some __time __ago,__we __talked __about __you __gaining __interest __in __xenolanguages __when __you __were __little. __What __confuses __me __is, __why __did __you __decide __to __join __the __Starfleet? __You __said __your __goal __once __was __to __learn __all __Federation __languages. __Barring __an __academic __career, __diplomacy __would __be __the __most __logical __option __with __these __qualifications_."

"_Oh,__ I __never __wanted __to __be __a __diplomat," _Nyota answered lightly, taking her meal of choice.

"_May __I __enquire __why? __My __impression __has __always __been __that __in __human __eyes, __it __has __a __certain __kind __of...seeming __attractiveness,_" he commented as he followed her to a table.

Glamour, Nyota thought, that was the word. No wonder there was no simple way to express it in Vulcan. "_Generally __speaking, __you __are __probably __right. __However, __my __mother __is __a __politician. __I __have __always __known __from __personal __experience __that __diplomatic __life __was __mostly __boring __talks __with __irritating __people._"

There was a strange almost-expression on his face.

"_Did __I __say __something __wrong, __Esteemed __Commander?_"

"_No,_" he paused. "_My __father __is __an __ambassador_."

"_Oh! __I __meant __no..._" I'm not having him quoting Surak back at me when I quoted it at him just a couple of weeks ago, she thought, _"__...slight __on __the __profession __of __your __father, __Esteemed __Commander._"

By the slight twitch of his eyebrow, she judged he spotted her near miss. "_I __did __not __take __it __as __such_," he replied. "_I __merely __meant __to __observe __that __as __an __ambassador__'__s __son, __I __had __some __appreciation __for __what __you __describe, __and __while __I __would __probably __coach __it __in __milder __terms, __your __observation __is __not __unjustified_."

Nyota's brain caught up with her only now. "_Wait, __your __father __is __an __ambassador?_"

"_Indeed._"

There was a vague suspicion forming in Nyota's mind. It was probably baseless, but..."_Where, __if __I __may __ask?_"

"_Currently, __he __is __not __posted __anywhere, __but __when __he __is, __he __is __stationed __on __Earth._"

Or not so baseless. "_You __mean __to __tell __me...you __actually __mean __to __tell __me __that __Ambassador __Sarek __is __your __father?_"

Spock inclined his head. "_Yes, __he __is. __Do __you __know __him?_"

"_If __I...well, __no. __Of __course __I __don__'t __know __him, __as __such. __I __have __seen __him __several __times, __many __years __ago, __but __I __never __actually __talked __to __him. __But...wait, __if __Ambassador __Sarek __is __your __father, __it __means...your __mother __is __Lady __Amanda?_"

"_Indeed._"

Nyota stared. After a while, she remembered herself and said: "_Well. __That __is __certainly...surprising_."

"_Why __so?_"

She shrugged. "_Well, __for __one, __I __never __knew __you __had __mixed __heritage. __But __mostly __because __I __have __actually __talked __to __Lady __Amanda. __She __gave __me __a __sehlat __made __of __plush, __I __remember._"

This time, _he_ stared, or at least, did the Vulcan equivalent of a stare. "_What__ exactly __does __your __mother __do?_"

She smiled cheerfully. "_Now, __she__'__s __a __member __of __parliament __of __the __African __Union, __but __at __the __time __of __your __father__'__s __last __but __one __posting__ on __Earth, __she __was __actually __the __African __president. __We __met __your __parents __during __their __visit __to __Africa, __and __I __did __my __best __to __impress __Lady __Amanda __with __my __Vulcan. __She __really __was __impressed, __or __at __least __pretended __to __be, __and __gave __me __the __toy. __I __remember __how __I __begged __mother __to __ask __the __ambassadors __for __lunch __so __that __I __could __talk __to an __actual, __living __Vulcan.__Well, __in __the __end __I __didn__'__t, __of __course, __since __Ambassador __Sarek __talked __exclusively __to __my __parents__ – __I __think __he __was __actually __quite __disgusted __that __I __was __present, __even __though __he __didn__'__t __say __anything, __naturally __– __but __Lady __Amanda __was __the __next __best __thing. __Your __father __was __the __first __Vulcan __I__ saw __in __person in my life._"

He blinked. "_This __is __most...fascinating_."

Nyota was smiling even more brightly now. "_It __is, __isn__'__t __it?_"

"_How __old __were __you __at __the __time?_"

"_Nine_."

One of his eyebrows went up. "_Wasn__'__t __that __a __bit __old __for __plush __toys __already?_"

Now she smirked. "_It __was __a _plush sehlat_, __Esteemed __Commander. __I __would __gladly __accept __such __a __gift _now_._"

'It was a plush sehlat, Esteemed Commander.' Well, that was certainly one sentence she never thought she'd say in her life. Nor had he ever expected to hear it.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As the Christmas holiday was approaching rapidly, Nyota was trying to get in the spirit. She seemed to spend most of her free time focused on Vulcan culture now, and it was a bit difficult to reorientate to gospels and carols and bits of tinsel everywhere. The choir helped a little, since they were concentrating on holiday songs at the moment, but the problem was that naturally meant Hanukkah tunes too. And they just sounded more natural to Nyota than traditional Christmas carols. So instead of going around the campus singing O Viri, Este Hilares, there was Al Ha-Nisim constantly on her mind. Rachel, her friend from the choir, couldn't stop laughing at her.

"That's because our songs are simply better!" She explained.

"Ha! If only we sang proper carols, like Go, Tell It On The Mountain or something, I wouldn't have this problem. But the European carols are just boring. It's not the spirit of the season at all," Nyota explained her dissatisfaction.

Rachel shook her head. "Not even your carols are a match for us. If Al Ha-Nisim is not good enough for you, there's always Hava Nagila, and _nothing_ beats Hava Nagila."

When Nyota tried to employ Gaila as a judge for this dispute, the Orion simply responded by singing a traditional Orion festive song, which had Nyota blushing for an hour afterwards. Even Rachel had to admit that Hava Nagila didn't quite measure up to that.

With the season, there always came the impossible task of selecting things for her parents. They had everything they wanted, and then some. They also had excellent taste, probably much better than Nyota herself. Buying things for them was lottery. Sometimes, there was a stroke of inspiration, but mostly she just went with anything that struck her fancy and repeated to herself that it was the thought hat counted. She was always showered with gifts from them, which didn't make it any easier.

And as if that task wasn't enough, she was faced with the decision of whether to give Christmas presents to the aliens and non-Christians in her life. Rachel always welcomed Hanukkah gifts, so that was all right, and it was actually Eid al-Fitr this year around the time of Christmas, too, so that took care of Aisha and her sister. And since she wasn't very close with these girls, some trifle would do.

As for Gaila, Nyota had established present-giving with her in their first year, so that was simple. And Gaila was a blessing to shop for. It was enough to just pick some lingerie that wouldn't clash terribly with her skin colour. That just left the other important alien, and that was a question she was carefully trying to forget about.

Should she give him anything? On one hand, they were a student and a teacher, and as such, it seemed inappropriate. And Christmas was definitely not his native holiday. On the other hand, his mother was human. And, they met to talk every evening, which, when she thought about it, made him her closest friend right after Gaila, since there was no one else to whom she talked that often. So that would seem to warrant a gift. Oh, the headache! And she couldn't ask anyone either, since Gaila would just come up with something completely inappropriate and the other girls were not close enough to her to feel comfortable discussing this.

In the end, she remembered him quoting a 20th century Earth philosopher some time ago, and decided that a philosophy book had just the right kind of impersonality about it that even if he considered a gift inappropriate, this one wouldn't be overly so.

However, when she opened a package that was delivered to her on the twenty-fifth of December and discovered a plush sehlat inside, she wondered if she shouldn't have gone with something a bit more personal.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Spock's time deciding whether to get something for Nyota was actually even more troubled. Like her, he could make a logical argument for both options: on one hand, she was his student, on the other, they were in contact very frequently. Aware that his sense of propriety might not be completely accurate when dealing with human habits, even though he has been living among them for so long, he decided to opt for the logical solution and get some human advice. There were two options open to him, but he judged that his mother did not understand the situation at the Academy well enough for his purposes. Consequently, he selected a gift for Captain Pike – that at least was always easy, a bottle of good Scotch – and went to visit his superior officer a few days before Christmas.

"It's good of you to think of your captain, Spock. And what you selected is a fine bottle, too, I will enjoy it. You never forget, do you?"

"Vulcans have good memory, Captain. And bringing you joy on Christmas is uncomplicated enough," Spock stated frankly as he sat down in his Captain's living room.

The Captain laughed. "I dare say it is. But then, giving gifts to middle-aged men is usually simple. It's the young women I personally have the most trouble with. Finding a way to satisfy them seems impossible nowadays," and he chuckled.

Spock took the offered opportunity. "My problem usually stems from not being able to determine with any certainty to whom should I actually be giving gifts, where is the border between a purely formal acquaintance and a closer one."

Captain Pike laughed again. "No wonder you find this difficult, even humans struggle with it, and it's our custom in the first place. There are no clear lines, Mr. Spock. Do you have some particular problem this year?"

Spock inclined his head. "Frankly, yes, Captain. I have a student whom I am helping with Vulcan language, and we meet every evening for dinner in the Academy cafeteria to converse in my native tongue. I'm unsure what would be the proper behavior on my part."

His companion frowned. "Yes, I see where the difficulty comes from," he paused. "I'd say it was appropriate to get a present in this case. Every day is quite a lot of conversation, after all!"

Well, who was Spock to disobey his superior officer?

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: For Gaila's festive song, I'm imagining something along the lines of Nanny Ogg's Hedgehog Song, only a thousand times more explicit. Come to think of it, Gaila and Nyota do have a kind of Nanny-Granny dynamics about them...

Oh, and if you don't know those Jewish songs, definitely listen to them. Unlike Nyota, I actually love the traditional European carols, but Rachel is right, Hava Nagila is hard to beat.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: The plush sehlak was a universal favourite. I'm not really surprised – the moment the idea occurred to me, I was in love with it too.

It's sometimes difficult to read reviews where readers write their ideas about what's going to happen in the future chapters that I know are inaccurate. Especially if it's things I'd actually like to happen, but I know the story doesn't really allow for it, the way I intend it. So just please don't be angry when the story does not meet your expectations in some of these respects. If I actually owned this, I'm sure I could be more accommodating, but as it is...sticking to canon (more or less) takes its toll.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota begged off her conversation classes during the two weeks she had exams, since she didn't have enough time to eat in the cafeteria. A nutrition bar had to be enough for her as she frantically studied and had very little sleep. She felt almost nostalgic when she finished the advanced SCPS test. That was the last official class she was ever going to have with Commander Spock, in all likelihood. She would miss his excellent teaching abilities in a way. Private classes just weren't the same, even though they were, in most ways, infinitely better.

The first two dinner meetings after the exams were spent by her describing her exams in detail – finally, someone who was willing to listen, Gaila always lasted five minutes at most – but when they walked across campus to the long range sensor lab on the first Tuesday of the new semester, Spock turned to her and said: "_There __is __one __point __I __have __wanted __to __raise __for three weeks and six day__. __You __speak __very __formally __when __you __converse __in __Vulcan. __Why __is __that __so?_"

Nyota was confused. "_Isn__'__t __it __appropriate_?"

"_That __depends __on __the __context, naturally. __When __you __first __greeted __me __in__ the __cafeteria __in __September, __by __which __you __set __the __tone, __you __used __a __formal __greeting __that __would __be __fully __appropriate __for __a __formal __teaching __situation, __but __surprised __me __when __used __in __our __partly __informal __arrangement." _He turned his head in her direction._ "But __I a__m __sure __you __know __all __these __rules_."

She nodded. "_The __reason __I __choose __that __formal __greeting __was __precisely __because __our __situation __seemed __to __be __a __bit __informal, __given __the __surrounding. __I __wanted __to __emphasize __that __I __respect __you __as __a __teacher __at __the __same __level __I __would __in __a __classroom, __in __spite __of __sitting __in __a __school __cafeteria. __'__What __matter __where, __if __I __be __still __the __same,_'" and translating Milton into Vulcan as she went was no easy task, she was quite proud of herself, "_that __kind __of __idea_."

He inclined his head. "_I __see. __It __was __logical __reasoning, __and __I __appreciate __it. __The __problem, __however, __is __that __the __content __of __our __talks i__s __disproportionate __to __that __formal __tone. __The __most __glaring __example, __I __believe, __was __your __sentence __from __December, __stating__ '__it __was __a __plush __sehlat, __Esteemed __Commander.__'" _Nyota almost sniggered_.__ "__There __is __simply __no __kind __of __situation __in __which __it __would __be __appropriate __to __combine __plush __sehlats __and __this __kind __of __honorific, __except __maybe __in __court, __and I __really __do __not __wish __to __imagine __a __situation __in __which __plush __sehlats __might __be __brought __up __in __court._"

Nyota would have been thrilled to hear him make what she was almost certain was a joke, if she wasn't more preoccupied by something else. "_So __you __mean __to __tell __me __that, __all __this __time, __I __have __been __doing __it __wrong?_"

"_Not __precisely. __You __set __a __certain __tone __in __your __original __greeting, __a __tone __which __we __didn__'__t __follow __in __our __conversation __practice. __Something __that __is __to __be __expected, __given __the __surrounding __and __the __circumstance, __however, __it __made __the __tone __and __the __honorifics __inappropriate._"

"_What __should __I __do __about__it?_"

He raised his eyebrows. "_The __most __logical __choice __would __be __to __simply __change __the __tone __to __fit __the __situation, __would__it not?_"

"_Indeed __it __would...Commander_."

He just nodded.

There was a sort silence, then she said. "_I __never __thanked __you __for __your __Christmas __present, __by __the __way. __It __was __a __very...unusual __choice._"

"_On __the __contrary, __Ensign, __it __was __a __highly __logical __one. __It __was __the __one __thing __I __knew __you__'__d __gladly __receive, __and __so __I __merely __followed __your __wishes_."

Nyota smiled. "_Of __course.__ I had no such advantage, so I had to go by my imagination only. I hope my gift was at least a little satisfactory nevertheless._"

"_Indeed, I find Derrida most fascinating. His thoughts are inspiring, even though I still prefer Wittgenstein over him_."

"_I think no one would be surprised to hear that, Commander._"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Some days later as they were sitting down to dinner, Spock noted: "_I was surprised to discover recently that Adis Ababa actually lies in a region where Amharic is the main spoken language, not Swahili. Didn't you say Swahili was one of your maternal tongues?_"

Wait, was he researching her? Nyota set the thought aside for later. "_Oh, yes. Both of my parents are from Nairobi, you see._"

"_But you live in Adis Ababa?_"

"_Well, my mother is a Union-level politician. She could hardly do that from Nairobi...they moved to Adis Ababa years before I was born. I still go there sometimes during the summer, to see my grandparents_," Nyota explained.

"_I see. But if both of your parents are Kenyan, how is it possible you were raised bilingual?_"

She shrugged. "_The other language was English. __It's half maternal tongue for most people on Earth nowadays...my parents just went the whole way. They wanted to broaden my educational choices that way, which they certainly did – I couldn't have gone to the elementary school I went to if I wasn't a native English speaker._"

He tilted his head to the side. "_You said it was an African school._"

Nyota almost laughed. His vision was too optimistic. "_Yes. In Adis Ababa, the only elementary school in Africa specialized in teaching xenolanguages to young children. Of course the classes were in English._"

He considered. "_It had the advantage of the transition to the Academy being completely natural for you_."

"_You mean because of the language? It would have been anyway, I went to college to America._"

He raised his eyes from his food to her: "_Why is that?_"

"_There are no Vulcan teachers of Vulcan in the African Union universities. __There are actually only four in total, two in America, one in Europe and one in Oceania. That made my choice rather easy. Only the American college offered Klingon at the same time, which is what I wanted to have as my second major, so it was decided I'd spend four years on the East Coast._"

"_I understand._"

There was a pause as Nyota debated with herself, but her curiosity got the better of her: "_How did you come across the information about Adis Ababa, Commander?_"

"_I realized I knew nothing of the part of Earth you came from, which seemed disproportionate, since your knowledge about Vulcan is quite remarkable. So I set to rectify the situation._"

So he _was_, in fact, researching her. Nyota's astonishment knew no bounds.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Two weeks into the new semester, Gaila came to their room in preparation for a date and, just by the way, turned to Nyota and said: "You and Spock are quite the talk of the Academy, you know."

"What do you mean?" Nyota asked, glancing to the plush sehlat on her bed. She could understand how that would make people talk – the idea of Spock and a plushie together was frankly just mind-boggling – but no one knew about it but her and Gaila. They called him Surak, and he was their new best friend.

"Well, apparently, you've gone from dining together every day – and people did notice that, don't you think they didn't – to leaving the dinner together."

Nyota rolled her eyes. "He helps me with Vulcan, Gaila, you know he does."

Gaila shrugged. "I do. The others don't, though. And leaving together?"

"We work in the long range sensor lab."

"After dinner?" Gaila raising her eyebrows just wasn't right, Nyota thought. There was nothing quite as un-Vulcan as an Orion face.

"Yes, after dinner, because it's the only time we're both free," she said, exasperated.

Gaila patted her on her shoulder. "Look, I believe you, but only because I know you and I know that you're as close to frigid as I am to the opposite pole...no offense. But the others are never going to buy that. You're asking a lot of them, you know."

"For crying out loud, he's a Vulcan! How wild is their imagination exactly?" Nyota asked, frustrated.

The Orion smirked. "Very wild. You wouldn't want to know. But, anyway, I just thought you might want to know and try to be a bit less obvious."

"Gaila, we are obvious because there is nothing to hide. He is my instructor, I am his student."

"And there are exactly three people in the whole Accademy who believe that right now. Have a fun evening!"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota did not have a fun evening. She stressed over it and argued with herself, but there was nothing else to do. The following day, as she was walking with Spock across campus, she said quietly: "_There is something you should probably be made aware of._"

"_Yes, Ensign?_"

She took a deep breath: "_There has been...talk_."

"_Talk?_"

"_About...us_."

"_Please clarify._"

"_Other students of the Academy have noticed that we take dinners together..._" she paused, hoping he would take it from there.

But his only reaction was: "_Very astute of them_."

She sighed and continued. "_...and that we started leaving together. They...assume it means there is a...oh, choosing to have this conversation in Vulcan was a bad idea. I just thought there would be less chance of being overheard..._"

"_I have full confidence in your ability to express what you need._"

Nyota shook her head. "_In this case, it's not my limits, it's the limits of the language I am dealing with. Vulcan is simply not made to express this. But all right. They assume that there is a strong emotional – or at the very least physical – relationship between us_."

Spock stopped. Then he resumed walking, muttering "_fascinating_" quietly.

Then he turned to her. "_Do you expect me to take some action?_"

"_Not really, Commander, I don't see what action is there to take_."

"_Do you want to stop our informal lessons?_"

"_No!" _She almost shouted, then continued more calmly._ "No, I just...I thought you should know, seeing that it is your teaching reputation at stake_."

He looked at her sideways. "_It is your reputation too. Your grades from my classes are excellent. From what I know, humans tend to infer in such cases that the grades are undeserved_."

She waved her hand. "_Oh, I don't care what a group of non-intelligent individuals thinks about me. You, however, could get in much bigger trouble_."

"_Fortunately, the disciplinary board does not make its judgements based on gossip. And since there has been nothing amiss between us, there is no reason for me to worry," _he said with no trace of disquiet at all. I really should stop expecting it, Nyota thought.

"_I'm glad you see it that way, Commander. It will die down eventually, you know, after nothing interesting happens, and they will move on to a new scandal._"

"_I have the utmost confidence in your estimate._"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: A guest reviewer commented on different cultures getting along so well in my story. It's an aspect of the Star Trek universe that many fanfic writers ignore, and justifiably so, because the new films ignore it too – how the Earth, and to a degree some other Federation planets too, are really supposed to live in pretty much ideal society. It doesn't mean they don't have problems, but they'd be smaller and a bit different from what we have today (just as today problems in the Western world are smaller and a bit different than those of the 19th century). I really like this optimistic vision of the future, and I try to stick to it in my story.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Someone commented in a review that while gossip is not basis for a disciplinary board judgment, it can be basis for investigation. Well...

Also, further down, there's another example of what would be different if I owned this. I still don't.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A fortnight later, on a similar way across campus, Commander Spock turned to Nyota and said: "_It might amuse you to know that I was summoned by the head of my department yesterday in the matter of supposed misconduct._"

"_Amuse?_" She stared.

"_Yes, amuse, because it was merely a formality. There was an anonymous letter stating that our relationship is irregular. According to the regulations, she was obliged to investigate the matter. It was very simple, really. I explained what gave rise to the suspicions, she commanded me on my willingness to take on duties outside my normal teaching schedule to work with gifted students, and for form's sake, she looked at the sensor lab security tapes. Seeing that the most exciting thing we did in there was discussing what we heard, she apologized for bothering me, and that was all._"

Nyota shook her head. "_I'm still sorry you had to go thought that._"

He raised his eyebrow. "_There is nothing to be sorry about. It was interesting to find out how such an investigation works, something for which I would normally have no opportunity_."

She couldn't help but grin at this typical Spockiness. "_Well, I'm glad there's a positive aspect to it somewhere. I'd like to know what kind of people it was who wrote to your department head. I can't imagine anyone doing that._"

He tilted his head. "_Perhaps they believed they were in the right. If there indeed were some irregularities in our relationship, it would certainly be right to report them._"

Nyota shook her head. "_I cannot agree with you here. I wouldn't do such a thing, not unless it was clear the teacher was acting unfairly as a result_."

"_Such rules exist to protect the cadets. I am not certain you can imagine how easy it is to abuse your power as a teacher. It is a thin line every one of us is walking, and if someone takes such a big step over it, it must be stopped_."

"_But what if the relationship is consensual, and it doesn't influence the teacher's or student's duties in any way?_" She persisted.

He was adamant. "_No. If it is a matter of serious, long-term relationship, they can wait for the student to finish his or her education._"

Nyota simply had to ask: "_And if it is just a matter of consensual intercourse?_"

He looked at her sideways. "_Surely a student and a teacher can deny themselves that much?_"

"_Oh, I'm certain they can – even though my Orion roommate might disagree. I'm just asking, why should they?_"

He paused, then said: "_I confess to be somewhat surprised to hear you advocating such liberal views._"

Nyota laughed, a little embarrassed. "_Oh, I do not live by them myself, not by far. But I don't see any principal reason why others shouldn't. I still insist that if I couldn't see any concrete harm, I would not report a fellow student or a teacher for misconduct_."

"_Do you place no value on following rules, as such_?"

"_Of course I do. I expressed myself badly. I personally would follow the rules, and I would encourage anyone else to do so, and I would probably chide them if they didn't. But reporting someone is another matter. There is something abhorrent about it, which makes it justifiable only in serious cases_."

"_This view is deeply human, I believe_."

Nyota shrugged. "_In spite of all my affection for Vulcan, I do not pretend to deny what I am, Commander._"

"_I would not wish for you to do so_."

They walked in silence for a while. "_It brings to mind another thing I wanted to mention," _he said at length, when they were approaching the lab._ "Do you wish to meet on Thursday?_"

"_Yes, of course. Why not_?"

"_It is February the Fourteenth, Ensign_."

"_And...oh! The Valentine's Day!" _Nyota was a bit astonished he even realized_. "Thank you for your consideration, but I have no plans, so I'd like to meet as usual. That is, of course, unless you have other plans? I would not presume to..._" There must have been some reason why he knew about the holiday.

"_I have no plans._"

"_Good. That is,_" she blushed, "_I'm glad I will be able to at least enjoy your pleasant company_."

"_The pleasure is all mine._"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It turned out Spock wasn't the only one who assumed she wouldn't have class with him on Thursday.

"You are not spending Valentine's Day in the lab!" Gaila almost shouted.

"Yes, I am."

"Over my dead body."

Nyota sighed. "Look, even if I wanted to take you up on your offer of arranging a date – which I am not saying, not at all, by the way – I already told Spock I would meet him."

"You can cancel it."

Nyota shook her head. "No, I can't."

"He'd understand," Gaila insisted.

Nyota sat down on her bed, feeling a bit tired. "I'm sure he'd understand, but it would be highly impolite. I owe him so much for consenting to tutor me in his free time, I'm not going to treat him this way. Plus, I actually like spending time with him, so chances are I will have a better time in the lab than I would have on any date you'd arrange for me."

Gaila put her hands on her hips. "You, Nyota Uhura, are a lost case. No wonder people are saying things about you when you meet with Spock on Valentine's Day."

Nyota let out a breath and laid down, staring at the ceiling. "Don't even remind me of that. Just today, he told me someone sent an anonymous letter to his head of department and he was called to her office."

Gaila stared. "You're joking."

"No."

She sat down on the bed next to her. "Oh my God, I'm sorry. What happened?"

Nyota closed her eyes. "He actually treated the whole thing like one big joke. Said it was a formality and it was interesting to find out how such processes worked."

Gaila laughed. "That's Vulcan sense of humour for you. Never makes a joke in his life, and suddenly a disciplinary hearing is the most amusing thing in the whole universe."

"It wasn't a disciplinary hearing, he just talked to his superior," Nyota muttered. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure she wasn't slightly offended that he treated the idea that he could be romantically involved with her like such a joke. She shook her head. She was being absurd. It wasn't like she wanted to be romantically involved with him, and after all, he was a Vulcan. It really was ridiculous.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_You once mentioned that you found your knowledge about my home disproportionate to mine about yours, and that you set out to make it right. I believe I have a similar quest in mind now_." Nyota stated during dinner on the so much discussed Thursday. The cafeteria was almost empty, since most students were eating out, and it was pleasantly quiet. "_You know precisely where I was born, what schools I studied...I only know you come from Vulcan and who are your parents, that's all._"

"_What do you desire to know?_"

Nyota considered. "_Well, where exactly are you from, to begin with?_"

"_I was born in Shi'Kahr, although as a young child I have lived on Earth for a time, when my father was posted here. Since the beginning of my schooling, however, I have lived in Shi'Kahr again._"

She tried to remember. "_Shi'Kahr...that's right next to The Forge, isn't it?_"

"_Yes_."

"_So the proper heart of Vulcan...how does Lady Amanda deal with living there?_" She was curious.

"_I realize it is not probably easy for her, however, she never complained," _Spock stated.

Nyota smiled a little. "_I imagine she wouldn't. So, school in Shi'Kahr...what about college? I must have read it in your CV, but I don't remember._"

"_Shi'Kahr Academy, too._"

"_So you basically just spent your entire life in Shi'Kar, and then suddenly moved to Earth and started the Academy?_" Nyota clarified.

"_Yes._"

And he'd thought _she_ might have had trouble with moving to America. "_It must have been...difficult to adjust_."

"_It would have been difficult to adjust regardless of how much I moved in my youth – I was changing planets and cultures_."

The indirect admission that he had, indeed, had a hard time of it, made Nyota feel a pang of sadness. She sighed. "_You should be teaching Interspecies Ethics, you know_,"

His eyebrows went up. "_How did you come to that conclusion?_"

"_Well, you have mixed heritage background and you have lived for years among a different species, and you have mostly successfully adapted. You are bound to know something about it." _She sighed._ "Commander Jones, on the other hand, gives the impression that the only alien he has ever seen was E.T. the Extraterrestrial._"

One of the eyebrows continued even higher. "_Thank you for your trust, but I think I will keep to my own specializations. Agreeing to such an argument could be dangerous._"

"_Why?_" Nyota was confused.

"_This is Starfleet Academy. Most courses here deal with non-terrans one way or another. You could make an argument that I should teach Advanced Phonology, for example, because I have learned a foreign language nearly perfectly, in spite of having a differently formed pharynx. It is a slippery slope. I would be teaching half the courses at the Academy before I could object_."

She laughed. This was definitely a joke on his part. Amazing. "_Well, keep to your sciences, then," _she replied,_ "but bear in mind that generations of students are going to pay for it by being hopeless in interspecies ethics. The next diplomatic scandal Starfleet causes is going to be your fault._"

Spock grew serious, as far as Nyota could tell. "_Is Commander Jones really that bad?_"

She nodded. "_Worse. You don't want to know_."

"_Would in this case your dislike of reporting be overcome, if someone complained?_" He enquired.

She thought for a moment. "_Yes. Yes, it would. There are very few subjects at the Academy which I consider as important as interspecies ethics, and so I think it is a serious thing that the course is not taught well._"

Spock just inclined his head in response.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: I have said this privately in a couple of review responses, but I'll say it again here, since I've gotten this far in the story. The official information says that Spock taught Advanced Phonology and Interspecies Ethics. Apart from that, he programmed the Kobayashi Maru test (because obviously linguists and philosophers are precisely the people you ask to program something), and he is a science officer, so he must be a natural scientist, too. Now, I know Spock is a genius, but this is simply not how it works at institutions of higher learning. You specialize in something. I guess you can have two specializations, if you're good and they're not too far from each other (even though you'd still be better in one than the other), but you don't just teach everything. So I ignored what the official website said and kept just science and programming, because they are what is mentioned in the films. However, I couldn't really help myself and had to put in this little sarcastic dab at their idea of Mr. Spock Knows Everything Best.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Thanks for all those reviews! I love you guys! A reminder, if you want me to answer your reviews – which I normally do – you have to have private messaging enabled.

Also huge thanks to BookLuva97, who, beginning with this chapter, is my new beta. This chapter is dedicated to her. :)

I don't own this, even though the number of OCs is growing.

One more thing: Just today, I found out that my grandmother married her high school teacher (my grandfather). Obviously, it's not my fault. Student/teacher relationships are in my blood.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Jones is suspended?" Gaila said incredulously, staring at the message on her PADD.

"What?" Nyota whipped her hear around to look at her friend.

"It says so right here," Gaila stated, still apparently in shock.

"Don't tell me you're complaining," Joyce, another junior sitting at their table, commented.

"Not by a long way, but I don't think this has ever happened before. Has it?"

"Not during our time here, no," Nyota muttered. Well, he certainly wasted no time.

She thought back to the last class she had with Jones. Under his lead, the course effectively turned into a parade of clichés about different species. Last week, they were dealing with Risians, and there were several memorable scenes. Commander Jones saying that 'there was only one reason to visit that planet, and it had to do with interesting statues', or that they were 'unlikely to have a Risian student at the Academy any time soon, since the species was so obsessed with sex they couldn't get out of bed long enough to study for an exam' – that one almost made Gaila leave the class. Yes, Nyota was certainly glad they wouldn't have to deal with that man any longer. However...

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_How did you achieve that, Commander?_" Nyota asked the moment she sat down to dinner in the evening.

"_How did I achieve what?_" He asked, one eyebrow up.

"_Suspension of Commander Jones in just four weeks,_" Nyota explained patiently, even though she was quite certain he knew what she'd meant.

"_What makes you think I had any part in it?_"

She just looked at him.

"_Very well, I concede it was a logical conclusion. It was quite simple. I listened to the recordings of his classes, realized that he really was hopeless, as you say, and brought the case to my head of department, since it would not be appropriate for me to interfere in another department's matters. Captain Nguyen was not happy to take the matter on, but, as she said, she owed me for bothering me with the misconduct investigation. I did not think so, but I let it stand. The head of Interspecies Relations department watched the same recordings and drew the same conclusions as I did, and so did the principal. And since the Academy agrees with your judgement that Insterspecies Ethics is an extremely important subject, they suspended him straight away – after they confronted him and he refused to understand that changes in the way he taught the subject should be made – instead of waiting for the end of semester, as they normally would. Fortunately, he has been teaching the subject only for two years, so not that much damage had been done. Head of his department states that the first classes last year, the ones which he inspected, were correct, otherwise Commander Jones wouldn't have been able to keep the post._"

Nyota nodded, understanding instantly how the problem occurred. "_Yes, the first couple of classes are normal – it's just some history. It gets bad after that. Who's going to teach it now?_"

"_It is impossible to get a qualified teacher on such a short notice, but it was still felt that any change would be for the better. Till the end of the semester, teachers are going to take turns as instructors of that course, employing every one who has at least the slightest qualification. That means it is mostly going to concern non-terrans._" He smiled a little – very little, but still, the corners of his mouth actually went up a couple of millimetres. "_So you'll be pleased to know that you will get your wish, I will indeed be teaching Interspecies Ethics. However, I'd like to state that I still have no intention of teaching Advanced Phonology._"

"_I don't care about that, I don't have that class_," Nyota muttered, a bit dazed. She was still thinking about the smile. It was most...fascinating.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"It's great we could all come this time," Gaila shouted over the noise in Space Bay one Friday as six women were huddled together around a table meant for four. "The last time, Khadija ditched us for some graduates, if I remember correctly, and Harshika had some even lamer excuse."

"Hey!" the latter protested. "We had a family reunion!"

"As I said," Gaila dismissed her blithely.

"And," Khadija joined in, "I do have to think about my future career, you know."

"Future career?" Harshika cried, mock-horrified. "I thought you were getting ready to find a good prospective officer and settle down?"

Khadija stuck out her tongue at this parody of her old-fashioned grandmother, who was often painfully 22nd-century. Harshika shared the same plight in the form of an overly conservative aunt who, unfortunately for her, lived in America and often made her feelings of 'no woman should ever step on a starship without being married and her husband accompanying her' patently clear to her niece. Apparently, starships were true dens of sin.

"No way," Khadija said now, "that would embarrass Aisha something terrible, if I found a husband before she did."

The older sister actually blushed a little, then said: "You know Ahmad can't propose before he comes back from the first mission, so would you stop it?"

"Yeah," Gaila joined in, "stop it, all this talk of marriage is making me feel anxious. Keep on it, and I'll have to go and chat up some guy just to assert my sexual freedom."

"Which in turn will make the sisters anxious, and they will have to talk about marriage some more, and the conflict will only escalate," Ines commented drily.

"And I will have to start reciting Klingon poetry just to get away from all your men talk," Nyota muttered darkly. "Isn't this supposed to be a girls' night out?"

But Aisha was looking at Gaila seriously, ignoring Nyota for the moment. "You do know we don't actually get anxious when you go and chat guys up, don't you? I mean, I don't want you to think..."

The Orion waved her hand. "Don't worry, Ines was only joking. As was I, by the way – I certainly hope you know I wish you to be happy with Ahmad, and that I am willing to listen to you prattling on about him as long as you want to."

"You might want to reconsider that," Khadija noted snidely, but her sister smiled brightly and said. "Of course I know, Gaila. But Khadija is right, perhaps we should rather not risk that – it might prove too much for Nyota."

All looks turned to the Kenyan woman, who shot them a nasty one in return. "I swear, if any one of you tries to recommend me a young man you know is very nice, I'm going to go Romulan on all of your asses."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_Months ago, I asked you why you decided to join Starfleet. I think I never got an answer to this question,_" Spock observed one March evening as he was starting on his fried rice.

"_True, we were distracted by plush sehlaks_," Nyota smiled. "_I think the main motivation was simply that I wanted to be...useful. Like my mother was, but not, I knew, in the same field. I would be a terrible politician, or diplomat. So what could I do? I knew academic work was useful, but it simply didn't have the kind of straight on contact and usefulness I wanted. It was not concrete enough for me. And, well, what else was there, except for Starfleet, when my field was alien languages?_"

He shot her a look. "_So it was simply by elimination?_"

She shook her head. "_Not only that. There was also the – how did you say it? – seeming attractiveness of working on a spaceship. You have to admit that the Enterprise looks...impressive._"

"_Yes, I believe it is one of our most potent recruiting tools._"

"_It certainly would have recruited me, if I was still undecided when I came to the recruiting grounds,_" Nyota admitted.

"_And are you content with your choice so far?_" He enquired.

She nodded vigorously. "_Absolutely. Spaceships have lost none of their seeming attractiveness so far_."

"_It takes working on one to discover that it gets old after a while, I believe._"

"_Are you content with your career choice, Commander?_" Nyota returned the question.

He inclined his head. "_I am. Part of my reasoning for joining Starfleet was identical with yours, and it did not disappoint me in this respect. It is just that it can be rather monotonous, too_."

She shrugged. "_What work can't? But I am curious. What were the other options you considered?_"

"_Vulcan Science Academy,_" Spock stated calmly.

Nyota laughed. "_Vulcan Science...impressive. You do dream big, don't you? But I suppose it was worth trying, and Starfleet received you gladly after you weren't accepted, so..._"

He interrupted her, which was probably a first. "_In actual fact, I was accepted_."

She stared. "_You were...wait a minute. You. Were. Accepted. To Vulcan Science Academy. And you refused?_"

"_Yes_."

She shook her head to clean it. "_Just...why? Such things just...don't happen._"

"_That is what the admission committee thought, too_," he said and it seemed to sound just a tad too smug.

"_Why, then? I mean, Starfleet is impressive for sure, but it's no Vulcan Science Academy_!"

Any hint of humour disappeared from his face – not that there had been any strong clues before. "_There were reasons. Personal reasons_."

Nyota immediately turned serious too. "_I did not mean to pry, Commander. I did not mean to doubt your career choices either, and I am certainly glad you decided to join Starfleet in the end. I was just surprised. Vulcan Science Academy is more prestigious than Starfleet, so I assumed you would have picked that choice_."

He tilted his head. "_Is the amount of prestige in a profession the only criterion on which you based you career choice?_"

She sighed. "_You know it isn't. Diplomacy is more prestigious than Starfleet_."

"_They you should understand,_" he paused. "_Perhaps one day, I might share with you the reasons for my choice. Not just now, however._"

That promise rang in her ears for the remainder of the evening.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Spock was troubled. It was impossible to detect from the outside, of course, but it was still true. He had long been aware that he found the company of Ensign Uhura pleasing, but did not think much about it. If circumstances led to him spending so much time in her company, it was certainly a good thing he didn't find it repulsive, even though that would not have changed his behaviour, of course. Except perhaps for agreeing to tutor her privately in subspace transmission problems solving, that is. But that was reasonable enough - he was giving her a lot of his time, he could not be expected to do it entirely as part of his teaching duties, without getting any personal benefit out of it. Her pleasant company was adequate compensation.

Lately, however, he noticed a growing desire and need for her company, which sometimes led to irrationally wishing they had conversation during lunch, too, or they had their laboratory training more often. Such emotions were always quickly suppressed, of course, but they still disturbed his calm. And all of this culminated when he told her recently that one day he might share his reasons for not joining the Vulcan Academy with her. Why would he say such a thing? It was illogical. In a year and three months, she'd graduate the Academy and their contact would come to an end. It was true that if she got her wish, which she was likely to, they would serve on the same ship, but he would be on the bridge and she would be in the communications department, and they would likely have no contact at all. That thought filled him with more irrational feeling, this time of sadness.

He sat on his meditation stool, and carefully considered. Was there, unbeknownst to him, some truth in that anonymous letter? Did he have inappropriate feelings for the cadet? Not of the nature the letter implied, of course, but nevertheless more personal than was appropriate for a teacher? And if so, what was best to be done about it? There were no regulations barring an instructor feeling anything towards his students, there were only rules against him – or her – taking some concrete action based on those feelings, instead of on professional assessment, for example. He was breaking no rules. He was no longer her instructor in any formal sense, he was not in charge of her evaluation, so there was not danger of his objectivity being compromised. She needed his help to excel. He was a Vulcan, he was not influenced by what he felt in his acts. He was influenced by logic. He shortly considered cancelling the subspace transmission problem solving sessions, which weren't necessary for her, but no. Logic dictated that he continued helping her, and suppressed his emotions on his own, since they were his problem. It was not an impossible task, so there was no need to bother her on his account. Perhaps one day, when she made her way to the bridge – and he was ninety-seven per cent sure she would do that very soon – he would be able to enjoy the pleasantness of her company without the inappropriate and un-Vulcan desire for friendship he felt now.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: If you caught the reference to The Big Bang Theory, have a cookie.

Also, when I talk about Spock's smile, I'm thinking of the smile from the TOS episode Charlie X, the smile he gives Uhura before he plays for her to sing. I'm in love with that smile.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: An important chapter. Still not mine. If it was, Spock probably wouldn't be quite so confused.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota was not going through a good time at the moment. On the contrary, she was going through a rather bad one. She was usually pretty mentally stable – thus her admission to Starfleet, the psychological tests were quite strict – but there were periods when it suddenly all got to be too much, when she felt she really couldn't deal with her work load and with the pressure that came from being in the prestigious organization, and with being one of the top students in her year. With depressing regularity, that happened in spring. She had a very good idea why that was, of course, and was well aware that school was not the cause, but it certainly added to her strain.

She was unwilling to as much as leave the bed, but she firmly forbid herself to miss a single class. What she could not do, however, was be her usual self. Gaila knew and was patient. Spock presented more of a problem, or so she thought.

"_I wish some teachers were more skilled with positive feedback_," she sighed during dinner in mid-April.

"_I'm afraid such criticism could also apply to me_," Commander Spock replied.

She smiled. "_In a way, you are right. But you never hesitated to share factual information about how I was doing, so when I was doing well, I always knew. Or know._"

"_Naturally. It would be illogical to keep that from you_."

"_Yet many human teachers do exactly that, believing that the students would get arrogant if they were told they were doing good_," Nyota stated as she brought her meal tray to the waste counter.

"_Some students perhaps_." Spock commented as they exited the cafeteria. "_I seem to remember you interpreting certain human custom as serving mainly to make one feel better about oneself._"

"_Yes, but as I mentioned at the time, I'm at the other end of the spectre. I constantly need validation, I need the positive feedback, otherwise I start doubting myself_." She sighed. Like today. She was having a particularly bad day.

"_That is highly illogical_."

"_Of course it is illogical. It is purely emotional. Surely you have not forgotten that I am human, Commander._" There were clear marks of irritation in her voice. Get your emotions under control, Nyota told herself firmly, but to no avail.

"_Allow me to rephrase. I understand that what you refer to is emotional. What I mean to say is that surely logic could help you overcome this. You must be aware that you are an excellent student, one of the best at the Academy_."

He was really not helping, And besides... "_Schoolwork is not everything_."

He raised one eyebrow. "_Yet we were discussing teachers and students_."

"_Yes, but sometimes, we use displacement in our attempt at psychological balance_," she paused. Oh, what the hell, she thought. He can just as well hear it. She was not up to pretending to be impersonal and detached today. And perhaps a personal example would help him understand humans better. "_I crave validation in the academic sphere because I lack confidence in others_."

"_I still do not understand. I fail to see what could cause you feelings of inferiority_."

She almost laughed bitterly, but stopped herself with some effort. Instead, she sighed. He really was being quite nice. In a way, she was touched. "_Perhaps one day, I will tell you, but not just now_," she mirrored his promise from some time ago.

He continued in his attempt at logical analysis of her inferiority complex: "_You don't seem to be lacking in any of the areas humans place value on. From what I could observe of your interactions, you are popular among your peers, you come from a good family background, you are intelligent and your body and face conform to the current norms of beauty_." He paused, noticing that she'd stopped. "_Ensign Uhura?_"

She turned to him, smiling brightly, her eyes oddly glistening. Almost as if...

He tilted his head to the side. "_I'm sorry if I upset you_."

She swallowed. "_Upset me? Commander, you just, in your own way, called me clever and beautiful. I'm certainly not upset. I'm...moved_."

"_I was merely stating facts. Surely you could have deduced all these things yourself_."

She decided not to argue. "_Human logic is always at its worst when we turn to ourselves. I could never be sure of any objectivity._"

"_Do you think I have helped you to resolve your problems?_"

If only it was that easy. It was kind of him to try, however. "_A bit, yes. It's not that simple, I'm going to doubt your objectivity now-_"

"_Doubt my objectivity, Ensign?_" He seemed affronted.

This time she did laugh, a little, and there _was_ some trace of bitterness. "_I'm sorry, Commander, that simply goes with inferiority complexes. We don't take anyone who gives us positive feedback quite seriously. Our emotions prevent us. I will endeavour to fight it, however. It shouldn't be too difficult, since you have always been a very strict judge._"

"_I am not aware of being any stricter than others around me_."

She smiled again. "_I remember your expression when we discussed your courses and I didn't know the words. You seemed so disgusted, I never dared to raise a topic in which I wasn't sure of vocabulary again_."

"_My expression? According to most humans, I have none_."

"_Well, your eyebrows, then. They almost flew off your face_."

"_I'm sorry to hear there has been such misunderstanding and that it has hindered your study. My...eyebrows were not indicative of disgust, as you'd assumed, only of surprise. It was the first time you acted as an actual language student, instead of a Vulcan in human disguise_."

This time, Nyota laughed from pure mirth. "_For a member of a culture that doesn't use stating of positive features of others in order to make them feel better about themselves, you seem to be doing it quite a lot today._"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As April proceeded into May, Nyota's mental state was slowly improving, and once she was confident she had her emotions under control once more, she took the first opportunity to apologize to Spock.

"_I'm sorry for my emotional state as of late, Commander. I will do my best to avoid ever repeating it in your presence_." She would have liked to promise it wouldn't happen again, but she knew her spring tendencies too well, and didn't want to lie.

"_I believe I've already told you that you do not have to be ashamed of your human emotionality. Though I admit that it would be difficult for me to be in your company if that was your constant state of mind, I have complete understanding for temporal emotional states. I have observed them in my mother, and even Vulcans do sometimes go though periods of impaired control_."

"_Do they? Well, that does make me feel better. Spring is always difficult for me_," she admitted.

"_Why so?_"

Nyota avoided a direct answer, settling instead for a...not quite a lie, but definitely a red herring: "_It's a general phenomenon. This part of the year has the highest suicide rate._"

He looked at her sideways: "_Were your emotional troubles of that degree?_"

Too much of a red herring, apparently. "_No! No, not by far. It was just a bit turbulent. I get through without major problems. Gaila – my roommate – helps, and also, music does._"

"_Are you partial to music?_"

She smiled. "_Very much so. My father is a conductor of the African Philharmonic Orchestra. It's in my blood. And you?_"

"_While I do not share your genetic predisposition, music is one of my preferred pastimes. Vulcan lute, in particular._"

"_Oh, I love the sound of that! A good part of my recordings are Vulcan lute performances, even though often played by humans – genuine Vulcan recordings are hard to come by_." She hesitated. Was it too bold to ask? But well, she'd already had an emotional breakdown in front of him, it wasn't like she could embarrass herself more. "_Do you think you'd be willing to play for me some day?_"

"_Only if you will sing_." Reciprocity was only logical, wasn't it?

"_I do not think I could resist even if I wanted to_," she sighed. "_Vulcan lute has always intrigued me. How is it possible that you are not allowed to feel any emotion towards other persons, yet you can enjoy – and produce – a deeply emotional music, and in this music, live those emotions out, to play with obvious love for the sound..._"

"_I do not believe any Vulcan would ever describe it that way_," he said a bit stiffly.

Nyota shrugged. "_He may not describe it that way, but it is exactly what he does, isn't it?_"

He paused for several seconds. "_I believe...yes, I believe you are right_."

"_Then what is the difference between loving music and loving other Vulcans? Why one should be considered appropriate, and the other not?_" There was no response. "_Commander?_"

"_I am considering my answer_." There was more silence. In the end, he spoke: "_I believe that there really is no difference, as you will find when you examine our cultural habits closely. As I said, no Vulcan would ever describe playing the lute in the way you just did. But as you so astutely observed, that is exactly what we do. In a similar manner, no Vulcan would ever talk about the emotions that tie him to his family members, his children or other Vulcans around him, and yet Vulcans do have families and do take care of their children and do spend time with other Vulcans._"

Nyota furrowed her brow. "_You mean to tell me that all this famous Vulcan non-emotionality is just...not talking about it?_"

"_Not merely not talking about it. Not displaying it in any way, and most importantly, never letting it overpower logic_."

"_Well. That sounds like a whole lot of repression to me_."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Spock had to struggle to stay calm during that evening's study session. The moment he got back to his quarters, he sat down on his meditation stool and thought. Was it possible that what he'd told Ensign Uhura that evening was correct? He could find no fault in his reasoning. But if it really was true...the consequences for his life would be tremendous. He shortly considered calling his father to verify it, but he could not deal with the reaction if he was wrong. He puzzled over it for fourteen minutes and twenty-one seconds, but in the end, a solution occurred to him. Kolinahr. If his hypothesis was correct, it would be a definite proof.

He immediately turned to the computer and started his research. He looked through every resource at his disposal. It took several hours, but in the end, he had his answer. Of all the people who attained kolinahr, none continued to play the lute, not even the two lute masters who were among the initiates.

Spock returned to his meditation stool, feeling confused. If lute was indeed such an emotional thing, how was it possible that it was a respected occupation in Vulcan society to play it? A survival of pre-logical times? Surely not, the Vulcans of that period were too violent to appreciate it. But how could it be that kolinahr was the ideal, and yet lute was also tolerated? How could the two, both prominent symbols of the Vulcan culture, coexist?

Kolinahr. Suddenly he remembered that it was known Surak never underwent it. It had always seemed strange to him that the biggest Vulcan philosopher, the ideal of a Vulcan, never underwent such a prestigious procedure. He'd assumed that was because he didn't need it, because he was free of all emotion on his own, without the help of the procedure. But now, a different solution to the problem was occurring to him. What if kolinahr was not for the best of Vulcans? What if it was, instead, for the worst?

He realized it was never recommended to Vulcan children as a goal to aspire to. It was talked about with great respect, as were those who achieved it, but Vulcans were, under normal circumstances, not encouraged to attempt it. What if it was a way to help those who were unable to control their emotions, to avoid displaying them, to avoid being influenced by them in matters which should be decided on logic? As such, it indeed deserved respect, and so did the Vulcans who sought it in order to cure their deficiency, but it would not be recommended to those with strong emotional control.

But if this was true, how was it possible that he never knew this? Why did he always assume that all emotions were wrong, human, that simply feeling them was wrong, not merely displaying them, and that kolinahr was the goal every true Vulcan should aspire to? His father had always supported that impression, he realized. He never mentioned feeling anything, never talked about it, the only one to mention it was his mother. It was true that Spock did not recall a single occasion when his father would actually tell him that he had to feel nothing, yet all his actions and words always implied precisely that. When Spock mentioned feeling something – back when he was a young boy, before he knew better - his father always replied that he had to be logical. Surely that amounted to telling him not to feel? So...was his father wrong? Or were all of Spock's deductions of the moment wrong?

He needed to know, but how? He realized that there was one universal measure of proper Vulcaness. Spock found the teachings of Surak and started to read.

He knew the book almost by heart, and yet with his newfound knowledge, he found completely different meanings in it, and nearly every line seemed to confirm his suspicions. How was it possible that he never noticed that Surak doesn't ever talk about not feeling, only about not acting on it? How could he ignore this all his life?

He felt his world shifting on its axis, swaying a little, and then falling into the new orbit. The edges were still a bit rough, and Spock's mental balance was definitely disturbed, but he could see everything much more clearly from this new perspective nevertheless. And all it needed was one question, one incredibly brilliant question asked by a human woman, to make him understand. He would be indebted to her for the rest of his life.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: To explain Spock's "big discovery," for those who disagree: TOS makes it very clear that Spock doesn't actually really know this, as absurd as it sounds. See his lines like "when I feel friendship for you, I am ashamed" to Kirk in The Naked Time. He only realizes it after mind-melding with V'Ger in The Motion Picture. Now, in the alternate timeline Spock obviously does know, as is manifested by him dating Uhura. So, something must have happened to make him realize. To me, it sounds rather reasonable that the something in question would be Nyota herself...


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Not mine. And thank you all for your encouraging reviews of the last chapter, they made my day.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Spock's adjustment to his new way of seeing the world took time. Every time he felt an emotion, he had to consciously remind himself that it was not shameful, and then experience a sense of wonder at the repeated realization. From time to time, he felt the urge to call all of his Vulcan acquaintances and make them aware of his discovery, but that, of course, would be acting on emotion, and that was something completely different.

Acting on emotion...after careful consideration, he discovered that it was not wrong, as long as it was not against logic. Would letting his acquaintances know be against logic? Surely if what he discovered could substantially improve their quality of life, it would, on the contrary, be unethical not to let them know? Not to let everyone know? And yet it was a discovery of a very personal nature. He decided he needed to think further on it, make absolutely certain there was no flaw in his reasoning, before he made it public.

In the course of that careful consideration, however, a terrible realization dawned on him. It would be illogical to let anyone else know – because everyone else already knew. It was the only answer that made sense. Marriage bonds, ozh'esta, el'ru'esta...what else were they but sharing of emotions? He always assumed all of his father's affectionate gestures towards his mother were a concession to her human nature, but the hand and finger embraces were a Vulcan tradition. It was not merely about sharing thoughts, as he'd always assumed – it was difficult to do that just through fingers, but possible – it was a deeply emotional gesture.

Spock contemplated his gaping lack in knowledge about his own race with some astonishment. He realized how it became possible, of course – purely Vulcan children would never come across the idea that emotions were unVulcan. They were Vulcans, and they had emotions, therefore it was normal for Vulcans to have them, and all that was required was control. Only Spock, with his human heritage, could assume that his emotions were a mark of that.

His thoughts turned back to his father. Why had he never explained? Spock could not imagine such confusion would be intentional. It probably never occurred to Sarek that his half-human son would come up with such an answer to the emotional problem. But it was really not illogical. Given that his problems with emotional control have always been attributed to his human heritage, it was a logical deduction for Spock to make that his emotions were human too...and there was never anything that would directly contradict this notion, and plenty of supporting data.

Lack of emotional control...it occurred to Spock that the degree of pressure he had been under was extraordinary. Now that he knew other Vulcan children actually felt emotions too, it seemed distinctly probable to him that they would have displayed them just as he did under similar circumstances, or at least most of them would. He had insufficient data to be certain, of course, but it was logical.

Not just his view of himself, but of all the Vulcans around him was now changed. He decided that, once he was more settled in his new realization, he should probably call his mother. And tell her that he loved her. Now he knew there was nothing shameful in it, it was logical to cause her pleasure – pleasure he knew she would feel – by making his emotions known to her in this way, since psionic touch was impossible over the distance that separated them. The thought of being able to do that, to freely express this emotion he had always felt and always had been ashamed of, filled him with a sense of calm and contentment.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_You do not seem yourself today, Ensign Uhura. Is something wrong_?" Spock decided to use the human vernacular because he knew that enumerating the individual irregularities that make him notice her changed state of mind could possibly make her uncomfortable. His mother had warned him about this on occasion.

Ensign Uhura sighed. "_One of the general studies majors asked me to be on his Kobayashi Maru test as a communications officer. It took place today. It was the first Kobayashi Maru I was part of._"

Spock nodded, understanding instantly. "_I'm sorry if it has been a difficult experience for you._"

She smiled a bit bitterly. "_But that's the point, isn't it? If it wasn't a difficult experience, it would be of no use. But still, I don't envy the GS majors. It was hard enough being there as a communications officer. I'm very glad I didn't take the GS tracking now. Not that I ever considered it, commanding a starship is not my life goal, but still. I couldn't deal with that_."

He tilted his head to the side. That was not ideal. "_Do you think you'd panic under pressure?_"

She shook her head. "_No, not that. I think I wouldn't sleep at night, having nightmares about being in such a situation for real some time in the future, and being responsible for the fate of the ship. As I said, it was hard enough to watch it from the sidelines – and I knew it was a simulation._"

"_Do you think the test is too rough_?" He enquired, realizing this was the first opportunity he had to discuss such a thing with a student.

Another headshake. "_Certainly not. All of us need to train this as much as possible, and the GS majors most of all. The instructors can never quite prepare us for situations like these, but the closer to being prepared we get, the better. I think a test like this is invaluable_."

He nodded. "_I am glad_."

She raised her eyebrow in an unconscious imitation. "_Why? Academy tests don't have to meet with my approval._"

Spock paused. What he was going to answer was not completely logical – there was no reason for him to be content that she approved, she was correct - but it was the truthful answer to her question. "_I programmed the Kobayashi Maru simulation_."

She stared. "_You? You programmed it? But...why? I mean, why you? You're a scientist, not an engineer._"

"_My bridge experience was deemed useful for programming a realistic no-win scenario_," he answered.

She was unconvinced. "_Surely there are many other teachers with bridge experience here_?"

Spock laid down his utensils. "_Not as many as you'd think. There are the captains and admirals, of course, but none of them is going to waste their time by programming something like this. Apart from them, there are many purely academic instructors. There's only few of us who have had bridge experience, and none of the programming engineers did. In fact, few of them ever served on a starship at all_."

She nodded in understanding, paused, and asked: "_How come you can program like that? Aren't you an astrophysicist and a theoretical physicist?_"

Now his eyebrow went up. He was almost amused. "_As well as many other things, as science officers have to be_."

Amusement showed on her face, too. "_It did always seem to be a job that required a committee rather than one person. But still, aren't you taking it a bit too far_?"

"_And don't forget I teach ethics, too_," and he smiled his almost invisible smile.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

That smiled followed Nyota through the night and the next day, as she started to prepare for her exams. It was distracting her, and so she decided it would be reasonable to actually take some time off work to think about it. Perhaps she'd be able to concentrate better then.

What exactly was her relationship to Commander Spock to her, she wondered? She knew very well that she stopped regarding him as just a teacher long time ago. Perhaps it was some time during last summer, when they talked so often over the phone, or at the very least, when they started seeing each other every day to converse in Vulcan. She now certainly saw him as her friend...but was it actually possible she saw him as more? She wasn't sure. It hadn't been the case just few short months ago, but now...

The main thing she felt when she thought about him was a strong pull, but it wasn't an erotic pull. She just wanted to get to know him better and better, to learn things about him, to find out why he refused the Vulcan Science Academy, why did he react when she quoted Surak at him, what kind of lute player he was...everything there was to know. She wanted to just get closer to him, but not physically. Was that a romantic feeling, or just strong friendship? Again, she didn't know. After some consideration, she decided to let the matter be. If it was romantic in nature – it astonished her a bit that it really was a realistic alternative for her to consider, loving her Vulcan teacher, and she had definitely mixed feelings about it - she had no doubt it would make itself apparent in time, it always seemed to, and there was enough time to worry about having a crush on her emotionally unapproachable instructor whenever that came to pass. For now, she needed to concentrate on her exams.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Khadija'd successfully graduated at the end of the year and was throwing a goodbye party before her departure for Damascus and then, after a brief rest at home, for space. She was to serve on USS Pegasus, a ship that was patrolling the Klingon neutral zone, as a relief helmsman – well, helmswoman – for the gama shift. "Which is so cool," she was telling everyone who'd listen.

"Aren't you just a bit worried?" Aisha asked. "I mean, I'd certainly prefer to have an assignment somewhere a bit more scientifically interesting and a bit less dangerous, even though I am of course aware that protecting the Federation space is one of the main tasks of Starfleet."

"You mainly prefer an assignment of the same ship as Ahmad, wherever that is," Khadija teased good-naturedly.

"Your dynamics never stops surprising me," Ines commented. "Isn't it supposed to be the other way round? The older sister teasing the younger one?"

"I think it got broken when Khadija got to be a year above me at the Academy," Aisha muttered, but she was smiling, too.

Nyota returned to the previous topic: "I think they're assigning people pretty much in accordance to their own preferences – and talents. I mean, what would be the point of assigning someone so exploration-minded to a basically military-oriented starship? Unless there's a shortage of people who are willing to do that, of course."

"But isn't there?" Harshika asked.

Khadija stared at her. "Are you crazy? Most of my year wants a posting like that. That's what we came to Starfleet for – most of us, anyway – to protect the Federation...on a posting like that, you can feel you are doing something with a purpose."

Harshika shrugged. "I guess it's different in xenolinguistics. Most of us want the exploration."

Aisha nodded. "Yeah, in science too, at least most of the people I talk to," which really wasn't such a big group, as everybody knew.

Ines and Gaila exchanged a look. "I don't think most people in Engineering even care, honestly," Ines said. "The work is pretty much the same everywhere. Most of us just want cool toys to play with."

"Well, I'm sure that is a highly ethical reason for joining the Fleet," Khadija said sarcastically, though she was smiling. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to spend some time with the people who actually join for selfless reasons," and, swishing one end of her scarf behind her in a purposely melodramatic gesture, she left their table to talk to some of the GS majors from her year.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota went to Commander Spock's office the day before she was scheduled to leave for home, wanting to say goodbye for the summer. He seemed to be expecting her.

"Ensign Uhura. Please sit down."

"Hello, Commander."

"I have two subspace transmission recordings for you, if you hand me your PADD, I will transfer them there." She did. "I will call you to consult them and send you other recordings. Will 1800 hours be agreeable again?"

"Yes, sir, it will," she said, stunned.

He nodded. "Very good then, expect to hear from me at 1800 hours in two days," he paused. "Have a nice summer, Ensign Uhura."

"Thank you, Commander Spohkh, you too."

She left his office feeling a little dazed. The way in which he so naturally assumed that the were going to be in contact this summer again...there was just something very touching about it. She certainly hoped they were going to discuss the transmissions in Vulcan.


	17. Chapter 17

AN: We're in the middle of this story now. Just so you know. The last five chapters will be covering the film, though, so really not that much left to it. And I don't own any of it.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was a cool morning in Adis Ababa and, for once, it wasn't raining. Nyota and her mother were taking advantage of that uncommon situation by walking in the garden. The younger woman took the opportunity to raise a subject she needed to discuss: "Mum, I will have to ask you for dinners at seven again this year."

Her mother turned to her, surprised: "What, are you going to be getting calls from that teacher of yours again?"

"Yes." At her mother's look, she added, "well, I still need the practice!"

Her mum shook her head, "I still think it's very unusual."

Nyota smiled. "Yes, it is exceptionally kind of the Commander, but then again, he's exceptional."

She could practically see her mother snapping at attention. "Is he now?"

"Yes," she paused to let her mother simmer a little, then finished: "You will think so too when I tell you who his parents are."

"I'm curious now." The older woman actually sounded like she lost some of her interest – if the main thing that was interesting about this commander were his parents...

Nyota prepared to drop the bomb: "Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda."

"What?" There was all the attention she could ask for in her mother's voice now.

"You heard me."

"Your teacher is Lady Amanda's son?" Mrs. Uhura just wanted to be sure.

"Yes."

The older woman's tone changed to business-like: "When is he calling?"

"Tomorrow at 1800 hours," Nyota said, a bit confused.

"I want to speak with him," her mother stated resolutely.

Nyota suddenly wished she had stayed silent. "Mum, I really don't think that's..."

"I exchanged communications with Lady Amanda regularly during the last two postings of her husband on Earth. There is no way I'm not going to send my greetings to her."

Nyota was surprised. "You were in touch when Ambassador Sarek was here for the second time? I didn't know that."

Her mother smiled: "I didn't want to tell you because you were studying at college at the time and I knew you'd be insanely jealous if you learned I got to meet the Vulcans without you – he made a trip to Africa again."

Nyota laughed. "You're right, I would have been jealous. Even now, I'm a bit irritated. How come that a mother doesn't call her Vulcan-specializing daughter home when there is a Vulcan ambassador present?"

Her mum laughed too. "If it cheers you up, I haven't really talked to him that time, I didn't have the rank for it any more, but Lady Amanda did accept my invitation."

"Did she bring any more plush sehlaks that you kept from me?"

"Oh no, there's just that one."

Nyota smiled a soft smile. Not strictly true, she thought, but I'm not going to say that.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

True to her word, at 1800 hours the next day, her mother was waiting in the doorway of her room when the computer announced: "Incoming video call from Commander Spock."

"Receive."

"Na'shaya, wuh-lan Uhura."

"Na'shaya, zhel-lan Spohkh. _Before we begin, my mother would like to speak to you._"

"_Your...mother?_" One eyebrow went up.

"_Yes. She'd like to convey greetings to your mother. Apparently, they were in contact slightly more than I knew._"

"_Very well, then_."

Nyota turned her head. "Mother?"

Her mum approached the computer and smiled. "Forgive me, Commander Spock, that I will be speaking in English, but my Vulcan is not as perfect as my daughter's," Nyota silently cursed her mother in her head, "and I do not want to offend you by making you listen to it. My name is Mwezi Uhura."

"It's an honour to meet you, Mrs. Uhura."

"The honour is all mine. I won't keep you long. I only wanted to ask you to convey my greetings to your mother, and tell her that I am well and hope she is, too."

"The last time I talked to my mother, she was indeed well."

"I'm glad to hear it." She paused. "I would of course send greeting to your father too, but it has been longer since I spoke to him, and I do not believe he would find it particularly appropriate. So I will leave it to our discretion to decide whether to convey that message."

Spock blinked a couple of times, like he was stricken by something, then he said: "Thank you, madam."

"I will not attempt the ta'al, but live long and prosper, Commander."

"Peace and long life, madam."

After her mother left, Spock switched back to Vulcan. "_It has been a pleasure to meet your mother. Had your father also been present at that meeting years ago?_"

"_Yes. He's not at home right now, otherwise I don't doubt he would send his regard too. If I recall correctly, he played with your father_."

"_Played?_"

"_I told you my father was a musician. Your father brought his lute to the visit, and they played together._"

There was definitely some change in Commander Spock's face, even though she couldn't exactly tell what it meant. He was silent for a while, then he said: "_Yes, my father plays the lute often._"

"_Wait, I remember you said you didn't have my genetic predisposition for music!_"

"_By that, I merely meant that neither of my parents was a professional musician. There has always been plenty of music in our house, however._"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He called again the next day, and the first thing he said after greeting was: "_Please tell your mother that my mother returns her greetings. She is well, as is my father, and she told me to say that she remembers your parents – and you – fondly. There has even been some mention of a plush sehlak._"

"_Well then, next time you talk to her, thank her for it. Plush sehlaks are really the best thing in the world_."

He smiled, and she idly thought that there were very few things she wouldn't do for that smile.

"_Surak sends his greetings_," she continued.

His eyebrows disappeared in his bangs, and Nyota laughed. "_That's the name I gave to my plush sehlat_," she explained.

"_I'm not certain if that is actually terribly offensive or not_," Spock replied, though he didn't sound angry, more amused, if he sounded anything at all.

"_I certainly didn't mean it as offensive. It was actually sort of by chance. When I got it, I just commented to Gaila – my roommate, and a good friend – that plushies and Vulcans just didn't go together, and that I thought Surak would be scandalized. Then Gaila came up with the idea that I should call the plushie Surak in the philosopher's honour, to sort of neutralize the scandal. The moment she said it, I knew no other name would ever stick._"

"_Gaila refers to Ensign D'Vesh, the Orion female student in Engineering, does it not?_"

"_Yes_."

"_I saw you with her six times_," Spock explained. "_If the name was actually suggested by an Orion, I am certain that it is, in fact, offensive._"

Nyota bristled against this kind of stereotyping, but then she realized Spock was, again, joking. It was going to take some time to get used to it. "_I assure you_," she said, "_that if she wanted to be offensive, she had a wide selection of terms she could have chosen from. And likely, I wouldn't even know – my Orion is not that good yet_."

"_I have no doubts of Ensign D'Vesh's vocabulary. I believe I should regard the naming of the plush toy as a sign of her not completely disapproving of the Vulcan culture, in spite of there being so big differences from hers_."

Nyota smiled. "_Of course Gaila doesn't have a problem with Vulcans. Orions generally don't have problems with anyone, and besides, if she disliked Vulcan, she could never live with me._"

"_Do you talk about you preferred culture so often?_"

She nodded. "_That too, but actually she has been known to accuse me of being half-Vulcan myself from time to time. Even though I'm sure it doesn't seem that way to you at all_."

Spock tilted his head to the side. "_In reality, while Ensign D'Vesh's statement is exaggerated, of course – as befits her species – I have observed many times already that you were exceptionally logical for a human._"

"_Really? You say that after what you've witnessed in April?_"

"_I believe I told you that was nothing to be ashamed of._"

She sighed. "_I know, but I still am. I mean I know I don't have to feel ashamed for sometimes feeling weak or depressed, or anything, but showing it...and in front of you of all people, too..._"

"_Perhaps I have not been clear enough in my statements. I know I told you that you don't have to hide your emotions from me. Let me specify. I do not wish for you to hide your emotions from me, in hopes of sparing my Vulcan sensitivities, more than you would from your other...acquaintances._"

Nyota's jaw almost dropped to the floor. She blinked several times. At length, she found her voice. "_It's not just about you being a Vulcan. You're a teacher, too, and you're...well, you're someone I really respect, so that makes it worse too_."

"_I stand by my statement. I do not wish for these things to make it impossible for you to use my company to relieve any emotional tension you might feel._"

Nyota nodded mutely, unable to comment. A tiny sarcastic voice in her head noted that it was pretty sure Spock didn't want her to relieve _any_ emotional tension she might feel in his presence. She told it to shut up.

There was a short silence, then Spock said: "_Perhaps we should take a look at that transmission?_"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Spock sat in his living room, considering Ensign Uhura's reaction. He was not surprised that it was relatively pronounced, more pronounced than he'd normally expect from her. The change in his worldview had been dramatic, so it was logical that the reactions of people who were to some extent made aware of it would be dramatic too.

He thought back to his mother's reaction. His call to her had been unscheduled, and she was surprised, though glad. "To what do I owe the honour?" She'd asked, smiling.

He hesitated, formulating his response, then he said. "It has come to my attention that I have been remiss in one thing. I haven't expressed my affection for you since I was two years, ten months and six days old. I am aware that you know I feel it, thanks to out psionic contact, but I am also aware that as a human, you appreciate the verbal expression. Therefore, mother, allow me to say that I love you."

She'd just sat in front of the computer, looking at him in astonishment, and after twelve seconds, the first tear left her right eye and trickled down her cheek, followed by others. It made Spock uncomfortable. He acknowledge the emotion, but didn't act on it in any way – it would hurt his mother if he showed his discomfort, and so it was logical not to.

After seventy-two seconds, she spoke: "What happened, Spock?"

And so he'd explained, which made her cry even harder. So hard, in fact, she was unable to speak. Spock was beginning to feel worried. "Mother? Have I said something to upset you especially?"

She shook her head, and after a while, managed to speak: "We failed you...me and your father both, we failed you...if we were unable to explain this, if you truly spent your life up till now believing that every shred of feeling was wrong and shameful...we failed you so miserably, Spock."

He considered. "I do not believe you can logically appropriate any portion of blame, mother. You always expressed emotion freely with me, and you were not qualified to comment on the Vulcan situation. Had you tried to, I would not have believed you. As for my father, there probably were things he could have done to avoid this, but I do not believe he is particularly to blame either. He didn't know anyone else with a half-Vulcan child, he did not have enough data to predict such a situation might arise."

His mother was drying her tears with her handkerchief. "Should I tell him?" She asked.

"I am not certain. I believed that by expressing my emotion, I would please you, but it seems that I have caused you more pain by explaining the change than I did joy by expressing the affection. Now that I know my father actually has emotion, I do not with to cause him pain too."

His mother beamed at him: "It's good of you to take your father's feelings into consideration. And Spock, don't reproach yourself. I am happy. You seem to have a clarity of both thought and emotion you never had before. That alone would make me overjoyed, and your expression of affection...well, you saw how moved I was. I will attempt to believe your assurances that we couldn't be expected to know what to do with you, and that we're not really to blame."

"You can. It is the truth."

She'd smiled, and there was real brightness in it, and it assured Spock that she really wasn't overly upset. "I'll leave it to your discretion whether you tell father or not," he said, and she nodded: "Thank you."

Spock returned to Ensign Uhura in his musings. After this talk with his mother, he'd realized there was another emotion he'd been trying to suppress, believing it was necessary, and that was the friendship he felt for his student. Evaluating it again, he discovered that there was nothing objectionable in it, and that there was even nothing objectionable in acting on that emotion. Friendships between students and teachers were not forbidden at the Academy, as illogical as it was – as if a teacher couldn't be influenced by his affection for a friend precisely as easily as he can be influenced by an affection for a lover – and he was not in control of Ensign Uhura's grades or future assignment, so not even his personal morals could find anything at fault.

It could perhaps give off the wrong impression to other students – for example, it could make them think that such behavior from him was standard – but that would easily be solved by engaging in friendly behavior only in the privacy of their walks, or the relative privacy of their talks in Vulcan, which were conducted relatively quietly and, additionally, not many students were good enough to understand Vulcan at such speed at which they were conversing. There was no need for secrecy as such, but it would be good to exercise restraint.

He'd considered the best way to let Ensign Uhura know of this intention of his for some time. He could, of course, straight out say it, but he was aware that was not the normal human procedure, and as he was her instructor, she might feel somewhat pressured to accept such a direct request for friendship. Making her aware by degrees and observing her reaction was the preferred course of action. He'd decided to wait for the right opportunity.

That opportunity had now presented itself, and overly, Spock was satisfied with the result. Ensign Uhura had obviously been surprised by his willingness to offer her emotional support, but she had also been smiling very brightly – though he was not sure she had been aware of that. He was looking forward to their future video calls during the summer. He acknowledged the emotion, and relished it.


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Summer time...I wish I could go to Africa with Nyota too. Or even without Nyota, really. Greetings to the two South African readers this story has. (Yes, I see the country you're reading this from in my story stats. Just the country, I swear – no more big brother stuff going on.)

I don't own any of this.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As July progressed, Nyota realized that analysis of the transmissions Spock sent her was becoming less and less central to her calls with him. The calls were getting longer, too – a couple of times, she'd had to rush to be in time for dinner. She almost felt like she was betraying her studies – it wasn't like the transmissions weren't interesting, but the change she observed in Spock was markedly more so.

She couldn't quite put her finger on it. It certainly couldn't be said he got more emotional, his demeanor was as calm as ever, but nevertheless, there was some change. Perhaps a bit more openness? It was a puzzle, and one she really wanted to unravel.

Like that Thursday towards the end of July. The transmission they were supposed to discuss was really very interesting – the things vorton did to a Ferrengi signal were just bizarre – but instead, they were discussing their first experiences with the Academy.

"_The military aspect was a bit of a shock to me," _Nyota admitted_. "I mean, of course I knew Starfleet functioned basically like a military organization, for obvious reasons, but actually living it is completely different from theoretically knowing it_."

Spock inclined his head in understanding. "_That was not a problem for me, since human military discipline is rather similar to the regular discipline expected on Vulcan_."

Nyota smiled a little. "_I can imagine. __It's very different from what civlian colleges on Earth expect from you, however. __Just learning to stand at attention when speaking with a teacher was a chore, let alone the amount of direct obedience required...and don't make me start on physical conditioning._"

He raised one eyebrow. "_Did you find it too strenuous_?"

Her smile turned rueful. "_I'd thought I was in good shape before I joined Starfleet. I even exercised more than usual in my senior year at college, trying to prepare for the service. I was proven wrong very soon. And to imagine that requirements for GS majors are even stricter..._"

He seemed perplexed. "_It's impossible for me to judge this aspect, since physical requirements were very easy for me, of course. But I think it was planned with humans in mind, and by professionals, so it shouldn't have been too much for you_."

Nyota shrugged. "_Well, I'm still here, am I not? That means it wasn't too much. It was still painful getting used to that kind of regimen. And with everything else...my first year was_ hard."

"_I believe the teaching faculty are more tolerant of lapses in the freshman year_."

"_Yes, they are, though I wonder how you know, since you say you didn't have this kind of trouble,_" now Nyota's eyebrow was raised in curiosity.

He stayed serious. "_No, but I had a different kind of trouble. I've told you already that I was changing planets. It took me thirteen months to at least roughly acculturate to life on Earth. I had problems communicating not only with my peers, but with my teachers, too, in my freshman's year_."

Nyota sighed. Frankly, she couldn't even imagine what that must have been like. She was not sure she could have stuck with her decision if her situation had been that difficult. She wondered even he did. "_Did it ever cross your mind that you made the wrong choice with Starfleet_?"

"_Seventeen times, during the first three months_," he said and Nyota inwardly winced. "_The frequency decreased after that. I never seriously believed it, though. What about you_?"

"_Not quite as often, just a couple of times during the first few months, when the demands of physical conditioning were the worst. As I've said already, I had the advantage of being used to living far from home, so at least missing it didn't add to my trouble. Not missing it overly much, that is. Of course I missed it. I still do, when I am at the Academy._"

"_And do you miss the Academy when you're at home_?"

Nyota smiled, wondering if he would know what she was actually saying as she replied: "_You know what? For the first time, I actually do this year_."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

During a dinner at the beginning of August, Nyota's mother stated: "I remember that last year, you refuted the claim that Commander Spock was 'your young man' with saying he didn't really call you every day. What can you say in your defence this year?"

"He's a Vulcan, nuff said, Mum."

Her mother laughed, but then continued more seriously: "But really, Nyota, why does he call so much more often this year? It is nearly daily, you know."

The daughter shrugged: "I presume he has more trouble finding more relevant subspace material at once than he had last year."

"So much more trouble? Isn't it strange?"

"Well, I suppose one reason could be that I'm more advanced now, and so it's harder to find something appropriate," she elaborated. "But also, well, it must have been rather difficult even last year, and I think he mainly tried because he didn't want to talk to me that often. But we talked a lot during last academic year, and he probably got used to me, so he doesn't mind now and so he can let it be, just finding one every day and be done with it."

Mwezi Uhura shook her head. "Nyota darling, if he didn't want to talk to you, he could have simply sent you the messages without calling you."

Nyota shook her head. "Oh, but I asked him to call, you know, so that I could check my answers with him. I think he's just such a good teacher that he couldn't refuse, even if he really wanted to."

"Well, naturally. He's a Vulcan, he wouldn't let his antipathy towards you influence his decision, if there was some antipathy."

"I don't really mean antipathy, more like...," Nyota thought hard about how to express it, "we didn't know each other, we were basically strangers, and he just doesn't seem like the kind of person who likes talking to strangers. Not that he hates it, but he just doesn't enjoy it and prefers to devote his time to his work, for example."

"And now you think he enjoys talking to you? Well that would certainly be a feat, charming a Vulcan, even for you, Nyota," her mother laughed.

"I don't imagine I really charmed him. More that he got used to me. He was talking to me basically all the time last year, I gave him no chance to catch his breath, so he probably thinks nothing of it by now. Perhaps he even would be thrown off his routine without speaking to me at least once every day," Nyota laughed too. At the same time, though, she realized she wasn't being completely honest. Since the beginning of summer, she really did feel that perhaps he was a bit more than just tolerating her, that perhaps he really was actually enjoying her company a little bit. But that might just as easily be just her own wishful thinking, and so she wasn't ready to share it with her parents.

Her father interjected with his quiet voice. "I don't understand. If he sends you one recording per day, it doesn't matter if he sends them individually or in larger bulks, does it? He has to find one per day in any case.."

Nyota nodded. "You're right, of course, barring the first package he uploads to my PADD. So perhaps the only difference really is that he was more busy at the end of this school year than the last, and so he didn't manage to prepare...oh! Of course, I'm an idiot. Naturally he had less material at the end of this academic year – he was tutoring me privately in SMPS during the semester, he must have wasted all the recordings on me."

The mystery of the frequent calls was solved. If Nyota felt a bit sad that the solution wasn't more favourable to her, it was just a small pang.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota pushed through the crowds on the vactrain station, looking for her best friend's face. Gaila was coming to visit for two weeks. It was a pity that the visit was so late and so relatively short, but it was necessary. It was timed for the period when Nyota's father was away on a tour. Not that she didn't trust her friend not to sleep with her dad, but Nyota wasn't sure how much they'd decide to travel and it would have been difficult for Gaila to avoid flirting with him if she was in close proximity to him for longer than a few days, which in turn would have created a tense atmosphere. It was best to avoid it, for everyone concerned.

Fortunately, the bright Orion face was easy to spot, and soon the two friends met in the crowd and Nyota was navigating them to the family hovercar.

"So, what news from San Francisco?" She asked as they got in, stopping Gaila's answer as she turned to the computer to set their goal address. "Home," she said, and the car obediently started. "Well?" She turned back to her friend.

"Khadija left the planet, and Aisha is finally engaged," Gaila cheerfully reported. "And Ahmad managed to get another one-year mission, so there's going to be a wedding after he comes back and she graduates."

"Cool. But wouldn't it be more practical to ger married straight away? That way, they could count on Aisha getting the posting on the same ship as Ahmad."

"I thought so too, but apparently, it works with an engagement as well, as long as it's official – I mean the wedding date has to be set, and be within a year, and so on."

"That's good. What about the other girls? I know Ines has gone back to Argentina for the summer, but Harshika is in town, isn't she?"

"Yes, but I've barely seen her – just at Aisha's engagement party. She spends all of her time with Pachai."

Nyota laughed. "They're hopeless. It's really romantic, but kinda disconcerting."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, I have no illusions about what kind of things you were up to while I was gone..."

Gaila smiled lazily. "Oh, summer in San Francisco is great! Everybody who stays in town has so much free time, no need to get up in the morning...and there are always officers on shore leave, and I don't know, but there's just something so sexy about a man who's just come from space..."

"Or who's just leaving for it, or who's preparing for working there...I know you, Gaila," Nyota laughed again.

Gaila smirked. "Which reminds me, I've heard the most wonderful things about African men...and my experience so far confirms it...this should be a holiday in paradise."

Nyota sighed good naturedly. She was definitely glad her father was away on a tour.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Even though Gaila had known that Nyota had calls from Spock during the summer, she was, predictably enough, disgusted by their frequency and length. Her nagging caused Nyota to end the talks sooner than she normally would, which irritated her, but it wasn't Gaila's fault that she was unwilling to share the exact nature of her relationship with Spock. It wasn't precisely Nyota's fault either. She didn't really understand it herself, she still wasn't even sure what her own feelings were – though that, at least, was becoming clearer. But all of it led to Nyota seeing at least one good side to Gaila's departure a fortnight later.

They had fun. They travelled a lot. Gaila was fascinated by the desert, charmed by the savannah and reminded of home in the rainforest. Nyota was glad for an opportunity to travel through her country again, something she normally couldn't find occasion to do. They stopped in Nairobi at her grandparents', but just for a day – her grandfather was not so very old yet, and quite good-looking. They visited Cape Town, Timbuktu, Cairo and Fez, observed elephants and lions and giraffes and gorillas, and even traveled with a Bedouin tribe for a day. "I thought poverty was eradicated on Earth," Gaila commented after that experience.

"Oh, yes. The Bedouins are not really poor. They usually have homes with all the necessities of life somewhere, in case they need it, or for when they get older. But they simply enjoy this lifestyle, and don't want to loose the culture associated with it, and so they choose to live this way. With modern technology, the risks are minimal, you know. And you get to ride camels."

Gaila laughed. "I'm glad," she said, "now I can fondly remember the experience without my conscience pricking." Apparently, Gaila's Orion posterior was better suited for traveling on camelback than Nyota's ordinary human one.

At the end, there were still three days left for them to stay in Adis Ababa and explore the city and the mountains around it. And three nights for Gaila to get familiar with the local men, after she had samples from all of Africa. Her final judgment was complimentary.

Nyota _would _miss her friend, a lot, but at least the talks with Spock would go back to being as relaxed as before.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Soon after Gaila's departure, information about the upcoming semester came in. Nyota's timetable was, surprisingly enough, not nightmarish this time, and no teacher wrote to tell her she was no longer allowed in their courses. The only unpleasant surprise came when Commander Spock called.

"_Long sensor range laboratory is occupied by a study group on Tuesday evenings. Would Monday suit you?_"

Nyota frowned. "_Unfortunately, I have choral practice. Wednesday would be possible, but well, two days in a row are not ideal_."

"_No, they aren't," _he paused_. "There are two more options available. Either we can meet for subspace transmission study just once a week, and perhaps make the sessions longer, or we could move the Tuesday sessions to my office. It would mean lower audio quality, of course, but then you have been listening to the recordings on your computer the whole summer. And the office does have the upside of being a quieter place to work._"

Now she smiled. "_Your office would be just fine, if you don't mind. I mean, if you wanted to meet just once a week, I wouldn't mind, of course_."

"_No, I do not wish to meet with you less regularly_," he stated clearly, and her smile broadened.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: To answer Julia's question from a guest review: yes, there will be a sequel to this - unless something unexpected happens - which will take it from the end of the first film to the end of the second. It seems it's going to be rather long too, but I don't know yet - I'm at chapter 9 at the moment, and it's still the beginning...


	19. Chapter 19

AN: I don't own them. If I did, I certainly wouldn't make Nyota be a TA, with all the other things she has to do...

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota was glad she could see Spock again after coming back to school in September, but she started missing home and the holidays almost immediately. As an addition to her regular duties, she was serving as a TA this year – a honour she couldn't really refuse, since it was normally only granted to graduates, but which made significant demands on her time. And she was not willing to give up any of her free time activities, most of which, apart from the choir, were connected to study anyway. She suspected she'd get very little sleep that year. She was already feeling tired, and it was only Tuesday. But perhaps she just needed time to adjust.

"_How are you finding the teaching aide position_?" Spock asked her during dinner.

"_Well, it's really too early to say anything, apart from 'exhausting_.'"

"_I confess I was a little surprised when I you told me you accepted it. Your schedule is quite full_."

She just looked at him. "_Would you have refused such an opportunity_?"

He smiled his small smile. "_You are correct, with ninety-seven per cent certainty, I would have not._"

"_There you go. I'll just have to manage_."

He seemed to hesitate. "_I trust you do know that I would understand and not take it personally if you decided to cancel any of our regular meetings_?"

Nyota shook her head. "_I don't want to do that. I'm more willing to cut back on the time I spend preparing for classes – I know I overdo it with at least half the languages, with the ones I am really completely fluent in_."

He tilted his head to the side. "_That reminds me of something I am curious about – how long does it take you to gain fluency in a language_?"

"_That depends. Back at home, I took intensive courses – eight hours per week – and that meant I could be almost fluent in two years. I didn't know all the idioms and didn't always sound completely natural, but it was enough for any kind of communication, and then I could slow down and perfect the language. At the Academy, of course, it's completely different. I get lousy ninety minutes per week of every language, which means it would take ten years to gain that level of fluency here – that's why all language courses are divided into levels of one to ten. The privately arranged advanced classes are for those who have gone over that level of proficiency_."

"_Have you considered adding private study time to what the Academy offers_?"

She looked at him disbelievingly. "_I have fifteen courses, physical conditioning, choral practice, sessions with you, and now I'm a teaching aide. When exactly do you suggest I find the time? You just commented on me not having enough of it_."

"_I apologise for my lack of clarity. It was a theoretical question. I was considering how cadets might get around that shortcoming of the Academy program. I did not mean to imply you should be engaging in any more extracurricular activities_."

Nyota nodded as they rose from the table. "_I see. I did think the question was strange – after all, I'm having my private study time right now_."

They walked towards his office in silence for a while, then Nyota said: "_I heard Commander Sukarno won the best teacher award for last year_. _It surprised me a little. I mean he is great, but I wouldn't consider him the best_."

"_I believe his distinct advantage is that he teaches a freshman core course. All cadets know him. Even though if he was a bad teacher, that would still not help, of course_," Spock noted.

"_You're probably right_," she smiled. "_You should have won that award. I have certainly never seen another teacher who would be willing to invest so much of his free time into his students_."

He was silent for a moment, then said carefully: "_I do not believe you should be judging my teaching by your personal experience_."

Nyota was confused. "_Why? I had three semesters with you, and you've been tutoring me ever since_."

Another short pause, then: "_You must be aware that our relationship has long gone past anything approaching the standard for students and teachers_."

Her breath hitched in her throat a bit, but she willed her heart to calm down. His statement was factually correct. Merely the amount of time they spent together guaranteed that. She shouldn't be reading anything more into it. Still... "_Well, I certainly haven't seen you as just a teacher for quite some time,_" she dared to say.

He nodded in affirmative. To what exactly, she wasn't sure.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"We're one girl short now," Gaila sighed dejectedly, sitting on her bed. "I'm going to miss Khadija. We should get someone to take her place."

"Well," Nyota considered. "I could tell Rachel. You know, from the choir. We both know her, and I think Aisha knows her too – Rachel is a science major."

"She's all right," Gaila agreed. "Even though it's going to look like we don't want to have anything to do with the GS majors."

"Well, we don't," Nyota said, her eyes glittering with laugher, "after all, they're just glorified hicks who have sex with farm animals."

Gaila laughed. She knew that story, and loved it. Nyota found it slightly unbelievable that it was only two years ago. It seemed like ages...she hadn't even known Spock then.

"But it reminds me," Gaila was saying, "that we don't really have anyone from the medicine track either."

"Gaila, we're a group of friends who go out in a bar from time to time. We don't need to have quotas on what majors are represented."

"Quotas...you're right! We should get some more non-Terrans!"

Nyota groaned.

"Hey, that was xenophobic!"

"No, it wasn't. I'm just unwilling to turn this into some kind of official business."

"You know what? You tell Rachel, and I'll ask some of the boys if they know any cool non-Terrans from either medicine or GS. Deal?"

"Deal." Did she really have any choice?

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"I had my first away team simulation today," Nyota related on Friday.

"Was it successful?" Spock enquired.

Nyota shrugged: "Well, it was extremely easy, since it was the first time. I mean, the scenario basically ran like: beam down to the planet surface, meet the friendly, humanoid species, get the information you need, and go away. We could probably do that as freshmen."

"Surely you are aware that the simulations must start small."

"Yes, I'm not really complaining. It's just that I was a bit excited about this class, and the first one was a bit of a letdown," she explained.

"If I remember correctly, you told me yourself last year that first classes of new courses were rarely informative."

She smiled at how exactly he remembered what she said – though she supposed he remembered everything that way really. "It's true. I suppose I just hoped that in senior year, they would dispense with the slow introduction. I think I suddenly realized I have only one more year of Academy ahead of me, and I feel woefully unprepared."

"In what department?"

"In all of them!" She paused. "Well, that's not really true. I am confident in many of my languages. There are many species which I know that if we meet, I'm going to be all right. I'm also confident about the basic routine. What scares me are the various emergencies, and unknown species...I don't feel ready for that."

"Didn't you say that most classes dealing with that are senior classes? I'm certain you will feel much more confident in this area by the end of the year."

She slowly nodded. He was likely right.

"As for emergencies," he continued, "you don't have to worry about it at the moment. While you are being prepared for that, it's something the bridge officers deal with. If needed, you will get particular orders in your department about what to do. You are unlikely to have to improvise and think up your own solutions for quite some time."

She nodded again, then asked curiously: "How did you cope with that transfer? Suddenly becoming a bridge officer and having to deal with all of this?"

"Logically," he said, and she laughed. "Science officer is a good position for that. Mostly, what is required in an emergency is a quick analysis of the data and finding possible solutions, for which the Vulcan brain is very well equipped. I presented the data to the captain, and he made the decisions. It wasn't that difficult for me. I'm afraid you position might be slightly more complicated, once you make it to the bridge."

"Why, thank you. And here I was thinking you were trying to calm me down."

"I was. But you cannot expect me to go as far as lying."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't want you to, either."

"I didn't think you would."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Rachel? Would you care to go out with me and Gaila and a couple of other girls some time?" Nyota asked after the second choral practice of the year.

Rachel turned to her and considered only for a moment. "Sure, why not?"

"There's going to be Aisha, too," Nyota added, "I think you know her – she's from science too, in your year?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Nyota, there are one hundred and fifty people in science in my year. Do you honestly believe I know everyone?"

Nyota smiled "All right, maybe not." She often forgot that other majors were bigger than communications.

"What are her specs?" Rachel asked, trying to place Aisha.

"Astrophysics and chemistry."

"Chemistry...Aisha in chemistry...wait!" The dots apparently connected. "It's the girl who covers her head, isn't it?"

Nyota sighed. "Well, yes. Though I'm not sure she'd want that to be her main identifier."

"Well, she basically doesn't talk. How else am I supposed to identify her?"

"See? Another reason to go out with us. You'll hear Aisha talk!"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As soon as the second Tuesday of the semester, it proved that there were more downsides to having the SCPS practice in Spock's office than just lower sound quality.

There was someone at the door. Spock paused the recording and turned to Nyota: "_I assumed we would not be disturbed here at this hour, but it appears I was wrong_." Then he called to the door: "Enter."

It slid open and a pretty blonde woman stepped in the room. "Spock," she said, "I came to,"and suddenly she spotted Nyota and paused. "Never mind," she said, considerably more coldly, turned on her heal and left the room again.

Nyota's head seemed to turn to Spock on her own account. She was utterly flabbergasted.

"_That was Miss Kalomi_," he replied to her unspoken query. "_She is a colleague from the science department._"

Colleague, right. This was a jealous woman if Nyota ever saw one. She considered.

"_Commander_," she said at length. "_I do not mean to pry, but I think perhaps in this case, my human emotional sensitivity might be beneficial for you. It might be important for your work relationships. It is none of my business of course, but...Miss Kalomi does not see you as a mere colleague._"

Spock was silent for a while, then he said: "_You are correct. She does not._"

Now Nyota was even more flabbergasted.

He spoke again: "_I would gladly offer you an explanation, however, it would be a breach of Miss Kalomi's privacy, and as such, I have to treat it as confidential._"

Nyota quickly shook her head. "_I was serious when I said it was none of my business. You don't owe me any explanation_."

"_Don't I?_" He asked, confusing Nyota even more, but then he continued. "_Perhaps not. Yet your curiosity is natural, since such an occurrence indeed is unusual in my case. So I would satisfy it, if I could. But now, back to our recording_."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Miss Kalomi is from TOS episode This Side of Paradise, and she was one of the main inspirations for writing the story – or rather, an attempt to reconcile what she claims and what Spock says there with Spock being with Uhura (and his father actually marrying Amanda) was that inspiration. The first chapter of this that I have written – nr. 28 – deals with her quite a bit. That backstory will come out gradually.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: I spent the weekend playing DnD, so it'll be a bit difficult to switch from that world to the StarTrek one, from magic to science, but I'll do my best. I have to catch up on those three days for which I haven't written anything (well, apart from the session transcript), after all...

Contrary to my DnD character, I don't own these. Though I do feel like I know them better than said character, sometimes.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was time for the regular end-of-September girls' night out. Nyota managed to tear herself from her books, Harshika from her boyfriend, Gaila from her lovers, Aisha from her fiancé's subspace messages and Ines from her warp drives, and it was a date that suited Rachel, too. As soon as she was introduced to the two girls who hadn't known her and drinks were ordered, Harshika burst out: "I need your advice."

She had everybody's full attention. "Spill it," Gaila encouraged.

"What should I do about Pachai?"

There was universal confusion. "Wait, you mean you're not madly in love with him anymore?" Ines voiced everybody's question.

"Of course I am, don't be daft. But the thing is, we're graduating in nine months. That means ship assignments. Statistics says we're going to be assigned to different ships. I don't want that, but I don't want to take the only effective way out either – I don't feel ready to get married, and we've only been together for a year. So...any ideas?"

She wasn't probably really expecting a solution. This was a common problem, and most cadets dealt with it by having enough sense not to enter serious relationships while at the Academy. Harshika, however, had been swept off her feet by an engineer, and now she had to deal with the consequences.

"Short of bribing someone, I don't really think there is a way out of this," Ines commented.

"Or faking a marriage date booking," Gaila added.

"I might love Pachai, but I'm not willing to risk being thrown out of Starfleet just to spend more time with him..." She sighed. "I really hoped you geniuses would come up with something."

Something occurred to Nyota. She firmly told herself it wasn't because she thought about Spock all the time, and said: "You could try to get a place at the Academy for a time, as assistants or whatever. And then once you'd be confident you wanted to marry him – or not to marry him – you could go to active service."

Harshika's face brightened. "That would actually solve it! I'm not sure it would be acceptable for Pachai, but it's worth a try...do you think I'm good enough to get a job here, Nyota?"

Nyota considered, than honestly answered: "I think you'd probably have trouble with a permanent teaching position, they're extremely picky about these, but they're always short of qualified Starfleet people willing to work as TAs..."

"And Pachai?" Now she turned to Gaila and Ines.

Gaila shrugged. "Don't look at me, my spec is IT, I don't know a thing about warp engines."

Harshika shifted her gaze to the other engineer present, who nodded. "Yeah, much as Nyota said about you, I guess – I mean he'd really have to be a star to be offered a teacher job straight out of Academy, but he _is_ good, so TA should be all right."

Harshika beamed at them. "Thanks! We're certainly gonna try."

There was a short pause in the conversation, then Ines turned to Rachel, who had been silent up till then, and said with her typical bluntness: "So what's your relationship status? Just so we know what kind of input to expect in these discussions, you know."

Rachel shrugged: "Casually dating, I suppose. I have been seeing a medical cadet for a while, but I think it's probably dying, honestly...time for someone new and fresh."

"A pity you aren't married. We don't have anyone who's married here. It would have completed the party nicely," Gaila mused, making Nyota roll her eyes.

"Sorry to be a disappointment. I don't plan on changing this any time soon. Apart from there being no candidates, I really don't want to go in that direction."

"Why?" Harshika asked. "Just curious..."

"Both of my sisters decided to go Orthodox," Rachel started.

"Orthodox?" Gaila sounded confused.

"Orthodox Jewish. It's a form of my religion that has particularly strict rules," Rachel explained, then continued: "One is getting married this winter, the other is now pregnant with her second child. They're both younger than I am, too. They're _so_ not an inspiration for where I want my life to go..."

Aisha smiled. "If Khadija – my sister – was here, she'd have agreed with you whole heartedly. She tells me I'm crazy for getting married so soon – I'm engaged, you see, and the wedding is planned for August. Khadija, on the other hand, plans to become captain of a starship as soon as possible, spend some time in the chair, and only then think about getting married and having children..."

"It's different for Khadija," Harshika interjected. "She wants to be the captain. Since you can't be married to anyone in your chain of command, her husband couldn't serve on her ship, and of course she wants to avoid spending years apart from him. In her case it's very reasonable. She can get her admiralty after that, I don't doubt she's good enough for it, and serve planetside, and everything will be dandy."

"Postponing marriage and children is one thing," Rachel said, "but am I the only one here who doesn't plan on those things at all?"

"Hell no," Gaila shouted rather loudly. "Well, hell no to the marriage part," she specified. "If I meet someone really clever and good-looking and moral and everything, I might decide to have children with him. That would be kind of cool, I suppose."

"And you'd raise the children alone?"

"Yes, or with the help of some friends."

"Don't argue with her," Nyota advised. "Even if I agreed it was problematic to just decide to do that with human children, these things work very differently on Orion."

Rachel nodded. "All right, I can accept that. So what about the rest of you, all pro-marriage?"

"I'm undecided," Nyota said. "I know that's not what I want right now, but in the future? Who knows..."

"Another hell no from me," Ines chimed in, "and hell no to the children, too. Actually, hell no to any guy trying to mess with my life ever again."

"Ines," Harshika explained, "is dealing with a difficult break-up. Has been dealing with it for quite some time now."

"Shut up. You make it sound like I was some overly-emotional teenage twit. You know what he did to me."

Harshika just nodded.

"You should talk to Leonard McCoy some time," Rachel commented. "It sounds like you'd have a lot in common."

Nyota looked at her friend, surprised. "You know, I don't know how it never occurred to me. Ines is kinda Leonard's female version, isn't she? You should definitely meet up with him some time, Ines."

Ines glared at her. "I seem to recall you saying that if someone tries to recommend a nice guy you'd like, you're gonna go Romulan on their ass. I might not know how to do that, but I'm a warp engineer. Trust me, you don't want me to take revenge on your ship."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Another interruption of a study session in Spock's office came in mid-October in the form of a video call from Lady Amanda. After the computer announced her, Nyota immediately rose. "_I'll go_," she said.

"_I do not wish to interrupt our session. I will tell my mother to call another time._"

"_Commander, with the time difference between Earth and Vulcan, another suitable time will be days to weeks away. It's not worth cancelling over our lesson._"

"_Then I will receive the call and we can continue after I'm done talking to mother._"

"_Are you certain? I could at least wait outside, I don't want to eavesdrop_."

"_I don not think we will be talking about anything I would not mind you hearing._"

Nyota shrugged and went to sit back down, and Spock turned to the computer: "Receive."

Nyota didn't see the screen, but she heard the voice, a melodic, undoubtedly human voice: "Hello, Spock. I was beginning to think you were going to ignore your own mother's call."

"Mother," he inclined his head. "I have a guest here."

"I'm sorry to disturb you then, but you know how awkward it is to arrange for a good time to call." Nyota smiled and raised her eyebrow at Spock over his desk, and he raised his own in return, turning his gaze back to his mother almost immediately.

"Yes, which is the reason why I took the call." Another of Nyota's eyebrows went up. "After some persuasion," he conceded, almost smiling.

"You shouldn't need persuasion to communicate with your own mother!"

"You know I am always glad to speak with you. However, you also know it is impolite to receive calls in front of guest."

"Of course. So who is it I should be grateful to for being able to speak to my own son? Is it Captain Pike?" Lady Amanda asked curiously.

"No. It is actually someone whom you have met in person."

"Really?" Now she sounded surprised. "I wasn't aware I knew any of your Starfleet colleagues."

"You don't." He paused. "I believed I've already mentioned a plush sehlak to you once..."

"Of course! As I told you, it was a gift I brought for the African's President's daughter...oh, that was years ago."

Again, his small smile. He seemed to smile much more often when talking to his mother. "Indeed it was. Long enough that the said president's daughter is now a senior cadet at the Starfleet Academy."

"Oh, is that your guest? What a lovely coincidence! May I speak with her?"

Spock turned his sight to Nyota, who shrugged and got up to walk around the desk. "Good day, madam," she said.

"Good evening, Miss Uhura."

"Ensign Uhura, actually," Spock interceded.

Nyota smiled. "Oh, I don't insist on rank, certainly not when speaking to someone who's not from Starfleet."

"It is strange, knowing that the girl to whom I gave a plush sehlak is now a Starfleet officer. It makes me feel very old."

"Not really an officer, madam, though I have the rank of ensign, I am still a cadet for all practical purposes. If it makes it better."

Lady Amanda laughed. "Only marginally. How are your parents?"

"They are well, thank you."

"Please, send them my greetings."

"I will. But I do not want to keep you from the talk with you son," Nyota tried to be polite.

Spock's mother shook her head. "I haven't called to discuss anything in particular, I just want to see his face and hear his voice from time to time, and since he won't come to visit, this is the best I can have. But I will gladly speak with both of you. Are you a future science officer too, ensign Uhura?"

"No, actually, I'm a xenolinguist and am preparing for work in communications department," Nyota explained.

"Of course, I remember now how you impressed us with your Vulcan when we met you for the first time. Even my husband was actually impressed, and that doesn't happen very often."

Nyota frowned. "Interesting, I do not remember speaking to the Ambassador at all."

Lady Amanda smiled. "You probably didn't, but Vulcans, as I'm sure you know, have very sensitive hearing. He heard you speak to me perfectly well, and actually I still remember he stated that at your age, you had better Vulcan than many official Earth representatives he met."

Nyota laughed incredulously. "Given that from the Ambassador, it cannot be an exaggeration, I actually consider that rather sad. I remember what my degree of knowledge was at that time."

"Have you continued with your study of Vulcan?" Lady Amanda enquired.

Nyota nodded. "Yes, madam. Vulcan is my main xenolanguage."

Spock tilted his head to the side. "You should demonstrate your superior knowledge of the language to my mother. Even though she is not a Vulcan, she has lived there long enough – and heard enough diplomats speak – to appreciate it."

Nyota just looked at him, but Lady Amanda immediately agreed to the idea: "Yes, let me hear you how much you improved!"

Nyota sighed, but then politely said. "_We can certainly continue the conversation in Vulcan if you wish so, Esteemed Lady Amanda. I simply expected you would have sufficient exposure to that language where you live, and would prefer to speak in Standard when the opportunity arises._"

Lady Amanda gaped. The she turned to Spock and, in English, stated: "How is that even possible?" And to Nyota: "I'm afraid we will have to switch back to English. After what I've heard, I'm never going to speak Vulcan in front of you. I didn't think it was possible for a non-Vulcan to achieve such level of perfection."

Nyota was embarrassed. "My university teachers certainly spoke better than I do."

"How could they speak better? Your pronunciation is perfect!"

"Actually, mother," Spock rejoined the conversation, "it is only ninety-nine point seven per cent correct."

Nyota shot him a grateful look.

"You are too modest, ensign Uhura, and I can see Spock is not helping. How did you two even meet, if you are a language specialist?"

"One of the courses I teach is a core course for future communications officers," Spock answered. "It helps them identify subspace communication anomalies."

"I see."

"Commander Spohkh is being too modest too," Nyota said and noticed that his mother was definitely surprised at her Vulcan pronunciation of his name in an English sentence. Nyota has been doing it for so long now, it was automatic. "That was indeed how we met, but crucial for our contact, and the reason I am sitting in his office after dinner," she thought it might be a good idea to explain that, Lady Amanda was a human mother after all, and Nyota had some idea how minds of those worked, "was that he very kindly agreed to tutor me privately, first in transmission analysis, and later, when my own instructor gave up on me, in Vulcan too."

Lady Amanda smiled brightly at her son. "That was very good of him indeed. But why would your instructor of Vulcan give up on you?"

"Apparently, we could have a competition today in who exhibits more modesty," Spock stated dryly. "What ensign Uhura is making sound like she was failing several classes was in reality in the first case her unusually strong work ethics which made her want to work over the summer too, and in the second case, it was simply that she was too good for any level of classes taught at the Academy, including the privately taught advanced ones."

"Well, I'm not surprised," Lady Amanda stated, "and I am not surprised you decided to help such a dedicated and talented student either." She was looking at them with an expression Nyota would describe as decidedly _knowing_. She didn't like the expression at all.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: I swear when I named those two sisters Aisha and Khadija, I didn't know they were going to be exemplas of "married young" and "married late". It just sort of happened. I suppose the way you name your characters does influence how you write them in a way...


	21. Chapter 21

AN: The beginning of this chapter is basically a long nerd rant. I hope you don't mind.

I don't own this, even though I do feel like I've pretty much appropriated the Vulcan language in this chapter.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_I've been wanting to ask_," Nyota said during dinner some days later, "_you told your mother my Vulcan pronunciation was ninety-nine point seven per cent correct. So, what are the mistakes? I mean, of course I knew it wasn't perfect, but I'm not completely sure what the problems are. It's 6a'n, isn't it?_"

Spock inclined his head. "_That is the most marked problem, yes._"

"_I knew it! Pharyngeal trill is just not a natural sound, you know_."

"_There are minor problems with other pharyngeal consonants too_," he pointed out.

Nyota was horrified. "_Even the fricatives_?"

He tilted his head to the side. "_Fricatives are 3in and 7a'at, correct?_"

"_Yes..._"

"_Then, no, there are no problems with those consonants_."

She exhaled. "_Phew. That would have been really embarassing. __The other pharyngeals, well...I can hope that one day, I'm going to have it down perfectly, but frankly, I won't hold my breath._"

Spock raised his eyebrow. "_I'm surprised you're so pessimistic. As it is, you imperfections are hardly audible for the human ear already_."

Nyota gave a short laugh. "_Which helps not at all when it's my Vulcan we're talking about, and so the ones I need to worry about are Vulcans_."

"_Even the proudest of Vulcans would be able to appreciate that you speak much better than any other non-Vulcan they have ever met, unless they are in frequent contact with human university professors of Vulcan_," Spock pointed out.

Nyota nodded, and sighed. "_I just hate it so much, not being able to be perfect in something I do_."

"_If I remember correctly, pronunciation of most Vulcan pharyngeals used to be considered impossible for humans_."

She nodded again. "_Yes. Before first contact, we considered articulation of those sounds impossible, and so when we heard the Vulcans, we simply assumed that we stood no chance with our different pharynx. It took decades to discover that at least approximate mimicking of those sounds could be achieved by humans_."

"_Why did it take so long? I wouldn't have thought that experiment was so very difficult_," Spock commented as Nyota got up to get some more water.

"_Oh, that is simple enough_," she said when she returned. "_You have to start training at an early age. Small children have a flexibility of vocal chords they lose with age, and sounds they don't use regularly become more difficult to pronounce, some even impossible. So it was, in actual fact, impossible for untrained adult humans_."

"_So that is the reason why you started studying Vulcan so early?_"

Nyota smiled. "_Actually, no. But my mother did take care of that, too – she simply got herself a host of xenolanguage recordings and played them to me when I was a baby, never quite allowing me to loose that flexibility. Plus many of her colleagues are native speakers of Arabic, too, so she often invited them over and made them speak to me – Arabic has a number of consonants you wouldn't find in either English or Swahili. The same with her South African colleagues...I thank them for my introduction to click sounds in languages, among other things_."

His eyebrows went up again. "_Did your mother intentionally sculpt you to be a xenolinguist?_"

"_Not completely, but I did inherit my fascination with languages from her_," Nyota admitted. "_She just wanted to keep my options open in this respect_."

Spock nodded and thought for a while, then said: "_Are there any sounds that are still considered unpronounceable, even with training?_"

"_We're talking about humanoid species phonemes, I assume?_" Nyota clarified.

"_Naturally._"

"_Then yes. It's most glottal phonemes. For some reason, we can just do the fricatives and the glottal stop, and that's it. That's the reason why I haven't learned Ferrengi yet, in spite of it being very useful – they're obsessed with glottals for some reason. Much like you with pharyngeals. Don't know what you all see in articulating everything in the very back of your throat, but it's your language, I suppose. What I wanted to say is, there have been uncountable xenolinguists who have tried playing Ferrengi recordings to their small children, sometimes even prenatally, and to no avail. Except, sometimes, for having to play it every time the child was upset, because it became the only thing that could calm him down_."

"_Indeed?_"

"_Yes,_" Nyota laughed. "_That actually happened to my phonetics teacher from the university. At the time she was teaching me, her child was nine and I think she was a bit worried about what he was going to grow into. He was as obsessed with the Ferrengi as I was with Vulcans at his age, but well, Ferrengi are not exactly the culture most human mothers would wish their child to imitate..._"

"_Fascinating._"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"I'm going out for a coffee with Leonard, care to join us?" Rachel asked after choral practice one Monday in late October.

Nyota hesitated. "I don't know..."

"Ny, I'm going to be there. It's not like you went out alone with him."

"I know, but still."

"You really should work on your paranoia. You can at least greet him, right?"

"Sure," Nyota agreed. She could do that.

The exited the aula and spotted Leonard waiting for them in front of it – with Kirk. Nyota groaned.

"I second that emotion," Rachel muttered.

They walked to the waiting cadets and greeted them. "I don't remember inviting Jim along," Rachel said to Leonard, shooting him a dark look.

"Oh come on, babe, don't tell me you're still angry!"

Rachel closed her eyes, looking like she was in pain. "No, Jim, I'm not still angry. It's been freakin' two years, and I have never been particularly angry. It's not like I didn't know you slept around. I just don't want you there when I want to talk to Leonard, you know, actually talk, not just make a lot of stupid jokes and get drunk. When I want that, you're welcome to come along. Got it?"

"Oh, all right. You two go off and be all deep, I'll talk to Uhura here in the meantime."

Rachel and Leonard quickly retreated, with Nyota shooting a I'm-so-gonna-kill-you look after them.

Kirk turned to her. "So...it's Nomble?"

"What?"

"Your name. Is it Nomble?"

"No," she rolled her eyes. "Have a good evening, Kirk," and she turned to walk away.

"I will figure it out one day, you know," he called after her.

It was likely. That didn't mean she wouldn't prolong the time until he did as much as she could.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_Have you known anyone in Starfleet before you went to t__he Academy?_" Spock asked on a November Thursday as Nyota was once again reminiscing on making the decision to join.

She shook her head. "_Not really. There was one distant relative of my mother, but I have only met him a couple of times when I was little. He...died in service._"

"_I grieve with thee_," Spock replied seriously.

"_I do grieve, in a way_," Nyota admitted, "_even though I barely knew him. But service deaths always seem so very tragic._"

"_Any death is tragic, except perhaps that caused by old age_," Spock pointed out.

"_I know, but these particularly so_."

The eyebrow went up. "_And yet, this being the only Starfleet member you knew, it did not deter you from applying to the Academy?_"

"_Not in the slightest_," she paused. "_Perhaps tragic was not an appropriate word. There is sadness in those deaths, but there is also greatness rarely encountered anywhere else. It humbles me and fills me with awe. We talked about my motivations for joining Starfleet some time ago. Sometimes I think this greatness was the main thing that pulled me here. Some of the cases just...overwhelm me_."

"_For example_?"

Nyota shrugged. "_USS Kelvin would be the example that springs to mind first, since it is so widely known. The respect I feel for the captain cannot be properly expressed in words. It just...I apologise for my emotion, but it makes me want to sink to my knees and cry every time I think about it_."

Spock paused. "_It is very strange to me_," he said slowly. "_We tend to regard such sacrifices as a simple matter of logic, while respectable, of course. Needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few._"

"_Or the one. I know, but don't you still think that it requires an immense amount of bravery?_" She asked.

He gave it some consideration. "_I believe that is the Vulcan kind of bravery – to let logic reign supreme even when our emotions are making themselves known more than is usual_."

Nyota nodded. "_I see what you mean. For us, it's the other way round – I think we wouldn't be able to do this without emotion. If we didn't feel compassion for the people we were saving – and perhaps, without wanting to diminish the heroism, if there wasn't some aspect of liking the idea of being heroes – we just couldn't overcome our instinct for self-preservation._"

"_The difference is perhaps not as big as it may seem. Our compassion is simply coached in terms of logic, but what are Surak's rules but compassion?_"

"_The Vulcan kind of compassion. You are right, of course_," she said, a bit surprised, perhaps.

He continued his consideration, then, as they rose from their table to leave the cafeteria, he said, "_There is one case where it serves better than the human one. Not, perhaps, so awe-filling, but equally important. When there is someone, someone innocent in the worst cases, who is nevertheless a danger – to the ship, to a planet, to any kind of life...Human emotions, I noticed, tend to get in the way. Your kind of compassion is always more concerned with the individual. Once there are more than, say, ten life forms concerned, it becomes statistics_."

Nyota frowned. "_If you were right, that would make the aforementioned sacrifices impossible_."

"_You are correct, I did phrase in imprecisely. When the case is sacrificing yourself, you will do it for millions as well as for one. But when it's someone else you should sacrifice, your compassion for him overshadows your compassion for the people he puts at risk. This kind of decision is certainly less pleasing from the outside, but is as important as the self-sacrifices, and saves as many lives_."

She slowly nodded. "_You are right that these decisions don't have the same kind of seeming attractiveness to them – and that sounds terrible when used in the context of self-sacrifice_."

"_Yet is it precise_," Spock pointed out.

"_They also_," Nyota continued, "_do not fill me with that kind of awe that makes me fall to my knees and cry. Instead, they make me want to hold the person who made the decision tightly and just whisper 'I'm so sorry' over and over again_." She sighed. "_Sorry, I am being very emotional today._"

"_We are discussing an emotional topic_," he allowed.

"_It's paradoxical_," she observed, "_that such great acts inspired me to join Starfleet, yet at the same time I of course hope I will never be faced with the necessity to commit them_."

"_You will_," he said plainly. "_If you are fortunate, the risk you take will not lead to your death, but once you make a bridge officer, you will be faced with such situations. I know I have been, several times during those five years_."

Trying to lighten the mood, Nyota said: "_That makes me feel rather conflicted. On one hand, I'd like to hear the stories, to know what kind of situations I should prepare myself for, on the other,_" she smiled faintly, "_I really don't think I could handle it_."

"_You will need to be able to handle these situations in reality, surely hearing about it must be bearable?_"

"_That's not what I meant_," she paused. "_Commander, I already admire you greatly for your academic prowess. If I heard something about you bravely sacrificing – or thinking you were sacrificing, anyway – your life for the ship, I think I might be just a bit...overwhelmed_."

He merely nodded, and looked at her intently. She cast around for something else to say.

"_It is worrying_," she noted at length, "_to know I will be faced with such situations. Not because I am so afraid of death, but because I don't know if I won't fail, if in the critical situation, I won't just prove to be too selfish for a sacrifice of that kind_."

"_After the depth of your compassion that I have witnessed in this conversation, I feel justified in saying that your worries are unfounded_," he said quietly, and she closed her eyes for a moment to savour the feeling.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: I hope I haven't bored you all to death with that linguistic intro. Just in case you were confused, I used numbers in transcription of the Vulcan words to indicate consonants English doesn't have.

More detailed explanation for the nerds out there: I borrowed two of them from Arabic chat transcription – "7" indicates voiceless pharyngeal fricative (7a) and "3" voiced pharyngeal fricative (3ayn). I made up "6" to indicate the pharyngeal trill Nyota was so upset about. I imagine they would all normally be transcribed much as the Arabic "special" letters are – that is, as the closest consonant English has to them. As "7" is normally transcribed as "h", and "3" as " ' ", "6" would, I suppose, be transcribed as "r". I expect there would be phonemes like this in Spock's family name – my personal guess is that the "n" in S'chn is actually a pharyngeal nasal and the "g" in T'gai is a pharyngeal plosive.

Of course, this is based on the assumption that Vulcan really does have a lot of pharyngeal consonants. There is no concrete basis for it in canon, Vulcan simply seems to be that kind of language to me...the sounds would be back from the times Vulcans were violent, and pharyngeal sounds fit that perfectly. Plus, we can see that Vulcan mouth is shaped pretty much the same as human one, but we can't precisely see the pharynx, so there's room for assuming there would be differences. The same could be assumed about the larynx, of course, but the glottal sounds would be even more difficult to pronounce, and Lady Amanda _does_ say she can sort of pronounce her family name after years of training, so I kept the glottals unpronounceable and left them to the Ferrengi. But since there must be some phonemes unknown to humans for Spock's statement that his name was unpronounceable to humans to make sense, my bet is on the pharyngeals. End of nerd rant.

Also, to explain further, it would have been embarrassing for Nyota not to pronounce properly the pharyngeal fricatives because those are consonants that actually exist in human languages, whereas other pharyngeals don't, and, as I indicated, are at the moment considered unpronounceable. Of course, that's gonna change after First Contact. :))


	22. Chapter 22

AN: If I owned this, there would be no Vulcan-only ships, but that scene with the cool music would definitely stay.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"If you could choose any position to start on," Gaila said one Saturday as they were relaxing in their room, Nyota, of course, by reading some book in an obscure language, and Gaila by doing God knew what on her computer, "what would it be?"

"Why, Communications Officer, of course," Nyota laughed.

Gail laughed in response. "All right, let me clarify: any position you can realistically start on?"

"Don't underestimate me," Nyota said haughtily, then laughed again.

"I guess what I'm really asking is, would you prefer a bridge relief on a non-alpha shift, or a no-name position in the department? Khadija started me thinking on this, you know. She sent a message."

"Oh, did she? What does she say?"

"That being on a starship is awesome, that she met lots of great people, and that the crew is amazing, and that she's already made a number of useful contacts and is confident that after that mission, she'll either be promoted to main helmswoman on her shift, or to an alpha relief. She hopes for the alpha relief, of course – more opportunity to shine."

Nyota nodded in understanding. "That choice makes sense for her, though perhaps I'd prefer the other one myself. It's less boring. I mean, everybody knows that as a relief, most of the day, you just sit and stare and do nothing. Which answers your question too, I suppose – I'd prefer a department position. But Khadija didn't actually have that choice, you know – she wanted the helm, and so there was only the bridge relief option open to her."

"Yes, I know. Like I don't have the bridge option – not that I mind. But she definitely choose right, I can't imagine her shut down somewhere in navigation."

"Me neither. That girl was meant to be captain, if someone was." She paused. "Actually, the only other person who gives the same vibe is Kirk, only he seems like he needs a couple more years till he is ready for any kind of responsibility, while Khadija has it now."

"Kirk? Isn't that the guy you called a stupid hick?"

"Yeah. I met him again recently. Still as obsessed with my first name as he was in the bar in Iowa. He is an idiot, without a doubt, but I do have to admit that he has unbelievable charisma – it doesn't really work on me very well, mind you, but I do recognize it – and he appears to be clever. If he could only grow up, he would be a good captain." She thought for a moment. "I actually wish he could serve under Khadija for a while...maybe she as a captain and he as a helmsman or something, few years from now. I think she could teach him a thing or two. Plus, he of all people serving under a woman...it would be amusing to watch."

"And not just under a woman, but under Khadija," Gaila added. "I mean, from what you say, he sounds like my kind of guy – I might try to get to know him, actually," Nyota rolled her eyes, "but he would just as much as hint at something erotic and she'd have his ass. She's even scarier that you are in this respect."

"True. It's almost unbelievable how she can be all fun and friendly and then a guy tries something and she turns into an evil ice-queen. I wish I had that skill, it always seems like I'm too good-humored with them. The idea of Kirk clashing with her...he'd have no chance. Oh, I wish I could see that. It would be better than Christmas."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

There was something that has been puzzling Nyota ever since she read it in the news that morning, so as she was heading to their table in the cafeteria, she turned to Spock and asked: "_I've heard there are some Vulcan-only ships in Starfleet. Is that true_?"

He put his tray down and answered: "_Not entirely, but there are two starships which have a crew composed mainly of Vulcans, yes_."

Nyota sat down, confused. "_But...why? I mean, I thought the whole point of the Federation was to promote inter-planetary relations...how does segregation fit into that?_"

"_You have to take into account cultural differences. Experience tells us very clearly that it is almost impossible for a non-Vulcan crew to function under a Vulcan captain. He simply cannot quite give them what they need in terms of morale. So once a Vulcan captain is commissioned, at least his bridge crew must be composed of Vulcans. And not many other species are willing to serve on such a ship, too. So, as a result, most Vulcans in Starfleet are aboard the two ships_."

Nyota shook her head. "_I don't like it. If we don't even make the attempt to get along with Vulcans, how can we expect to deal with species that are more different from us?_"

"_I understand your point, but you are asking a lot of Starfleet personnel. Deep space missions are complicated enough without having a captain who can't emphasize with you at all_," Spock argued.

"_Yet Vulcans manage under a human captain_," Nyota held her ground.

"_If they have to. They have enough discipline to simply follow orders even though they disagree, so that makes it easier for them. Most, however, prefer to be assigned tot he Vulcan ships_," he explained.

"_But you didn't_," she pointed out.

"_No_."

"_So you agree with me_!"

He inclined his head. "_I do. There are also additional factors I dislike – Vulcan High Council clearly prefers the Vulcan vessels to other Federation ships, which is in direct contradiction to how the Federation is meant to work. They have various advantages. They are __equipped by the Vulcan Science Academy, for example_."

"_Oh, yes, the Vulcan Academy_," Nyota allowed herself to be sidetracked. "_You know, I don't think there's anything I'm more curious about than this story_."

He smiled his small smile and raised one eyebrow. "_Not even Miss Kalomi_?"

She laughed. "_Very well, I confess these two things do hold comparable interest to me. But you said you were not going to divulge any information about Miss Kalomi, whereas you promised to tell me about the Academy one day_."

"_Have you finished your dinner_?"

"_Yes,_" she answered, confused.

"_Than let's head to my office_."

She followed him outside and the moment they were out of the cafeteria, she said: "_It was not my intention to press you in any way, Commander._"

"_I did not perceive it as such. I simply did not wish to discuss this in the cafeteria_."

"_We don't have to discuss it at all, if you don't want to_."

"_In this respect, I can satisfy your curiosity, so I see no reason not to. I know that I prefer having my puzzling questions answered, too. You are aware, of course, that I am merely half-Vulcan._"

She nodded, confused once again.

"_While on Earth, most of my acquaintances are not aware of it, on Vulcan, everybody knew that. And it was perceived as a distinct weakness. It was seen as giving me less control over my emotions, making me less intelligent, weaker, and many other things. Children at school tended to experiment with me, trying various means of evoking an emotional response in me. On numerous occasions, they succeeded, which further confirmed to them that I was indeed weaker for being partly human – notwithstanding the fact that most purely Vulcan children would have not kept calm under that degree of provocation either. I came to resent such implications very strongly, mainly because I took them as slights to my mother_."

Nyota nodded. "_I'm not surprised. Or rather, I'm a bit surprised to hear you say that you resented something, but apart from that, it is perfectly understandable_."

"_I learned not to show my resentment as I grew older, naturally. But when I stood at the crossroads of choosing my future career...I wanted to go to the Vulcan Science Academy because I wanted to prove that my human half was not a weakness, that I was as good as any other Vulcan. When the council informed me of my admission, however, its president stated that it was 'admirable what I achieved despite my disadvantage'. He meant my mother, of course. In that moment, it became very clear to me that if I stayed on Vulcan, I would always be seen as a second-rate citizen. My achievements would not be seen on their own merits, but always in the context of my ancestry. And also that by joining the Vulcan Academy, the very epitome of the culture, I was in a way rejecting my mother, even though she explicitly stated she would not take it as such. Starfleet, on the other hand, was a multicultural institution, in which I would have to reject neither half of my heritage and would not, presumably, be seen as second-rate. I realized nothing I ever did would make the Vulcans forget my mixed blood, so my attempts at proving myself were futile. And so, I rejected the Academy._"

Nyota was silent the rest of the way to his office. "_Your mother must have been glad_," she said when they entered."

"_My mother is the kind of woman who would have supported me in whatever decision I made. My father, on the other hand..._"

"_He disapproved_?" Nyota had wondered why he never really talked about him.

"_Disapproves still. Mainly, he was dissatisfied with the...emotional way in which I rejected the Academy._"

"_Was it emotional_?" Nyota asked curiously.

"_The reasons were partly so_," he admitted, "_and my father never allowed me to explain the logical part, so in his mind, they were wholly so. And as for the mode of my rejection...I might not have said the final wish for peace and long life of the council ministers in a quite unemotional manner_."

"_What do you mean_?" The traditional greeting was hardly something to cry over.

"_I might have infused it with a hint of the intonation a human would use when employing the phrase 'go to hell'_."

Nyota laughed loud and long. "_I'm sorry, I have no Vulcan equivalent for this, so I have to switch to English:_ 'That is so cool.' _I certainly hope you rode into the sunset on a hoverbike while_ cool _music played in the background afterwards_."

"_I'm afraid it was in mid-morning and I came on foot, but I do see how that is considerably less poetic than what you're suggesting_."

Nyota shook her head ad was silent for a while, then she asked: "_And did Starfleet fulfil your expectations?_"

"_I beg your pardon?_"

"_Is it as multicultural and tolerant as you expected it to be?_"

"_There is a majority of humans in the service, however, I am aware that that is not due to any discriminatory policy, merely to the psychological specifics of different species. And as far as tolerance goes, mostly yes. There are occasional problems caused, again, by the psychological and cultural differences, but I cannot really call that intolerance. Certainly not compared to what I saw on Vulcan. It is merely an unfortunate result of Starfleet being predominately human – many of the personnel are not used to dealing with different species, and so they judge our actions by human standards. But as I said, I cannot view someone being offended by my lack of emotional display as intolerance. Just as I am not intolerant because I am sometimes made uncomfortable by the human displays of emotion, or used to be when I first came to live on Earth_."

Nyota smiled brightly at him. "_It is just so nice_," she said, "_to know that we have, at least in some small measure, achieved our ideals_."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: The creators of the 2009 film, of course, provided us with the cool music at least, even though there was unfortunately no hoverbike. I love that scene.


	23. Chapter 23

AN: The next chapter will be a day late – on Tuesday – I'm going canoeing for three days.

I don't own them. If I did, Spock would take Nyota up on her gift offer right away.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

All departments of Starfleet Academy had three social gatherings per year – at the beginning of the academic year, before the summer break, and before the winter holiday. The last one seemed the most illogical to Spock. It was true that sixty-two point three percent of cadets and personnel were human, but only twenty-six point eight per cent of those were Christian, with further fourteen point two per cent being Hindu and zero point five per cent being Jewish. Approximately thirteen more per cent ascribed some cultural significance to winter solstice on other cultural grounds, mainly, he understood, associated with East Asian heritage. That meant only thirty-three point nine per cent of all cadets and personnel found the time of the year significant, yet the Academy insisted on having a social gathering in its honor. It was true that if they wanted to have some social gathering with a cultural significance, mid-December was the date the biggest number of students and personnel could agree on, but Spock still thought it would be more logical to eliminate that festive occasion altogether, or, if for some reason three social gatherings per year were necessary, pick a date that was precisely in the middle of the academic year.

However, it was not him who decided these things, and so on the twentieth of December, he found himself standing in the rooms the Academy had reserved for entertainment, tasting food that was, true, markedly better than the one usually served in the cafeteria. He saw Captain Nguyen approaching him, and he greeted her.

"Hello," she answered. "How are you bearing this so far?"

"Without major problems, even though," he looked from the Christmas tree next to him to the statue of Lord Ganesha on the other side of the room, "the decorations are a bit overly bright, Captain."

"Yeah, people from Geology did go a bit overboard with all this. I think we should just all vote that decorating is going to be the Cultural Anthropologist's job from now on. The rest of us can get the food or whatever." She paused. "Commander, there was a particular reason why I wanted to talk to you, actually. Are you aware of having an enemy? Someone who really has it in for you?"

Spock was surprised by this question. "No, Captain. Why?"

She sighed. "Well, I've had another complaint against you some time ago. Another accusation of misconduct. The same person as before, I think. They must be rather insistent, trying it again after half a year..."

His confusion rose. "I confess to be surprised that you did not call me to your office for explanation, Captain."

She shrugged. "I didn't want to bother you again. This time, it was about something going on in your office, so I just pulled the security tape recordings from your office, and checked that you did nothing untoward with Cadet Uhura in there. Though I am a bit surprised about your relocation?"

"The laboratory is booked on Tuesdays, and no other day suits us as well," he explained readily. "On Thursdays, we are sill in the laboratory."

"Oh, I see," she nodded. "Well, anyway, I just remembered and wanted to let you know."

"Captain," he stopped her departure, "could you tell me when exactly it was? I'm trying to determine whether there was something particular that triggered the accusation."

"No problem, I can look it up," she pulled out her PADD and searched for a while. "It was a couple of months ago, towards the beginning of term...ah, here we go. 10th September."

He went back in his mind, trying to remember... "I see. Yes, I understand now."

"What was it?" She sounded curious.

"You might have seen on the recordings that there was a visit to my office during one of the sessions," Spock said. "I believe I now understand who was sending these messages. I am pleased to assure you that there will be no more incoming. The person has left the planet. I am sorry it took up so much of your time."

"No problem. I'm glad that it is solved, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble. Enjoy the rest of the evening, if you can," Captain Nguyen said and she was gone, leaving Spock to contemplate the danger of emotions out of control.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Selecting a gift this year was even more of a headache than last year. Nyota knew that something as impersonal as a random book was simply not going to do this time. But what personal thing could she give Spock? What did he want?

She knew some things he wanted, and none of them she could pack and put in a Christmas stocking. His father's approval, for one, very likely. She couldn't give him that. Acceptance of all of him, lack of emotional display included. She _could_ give him that, but it didn't really work as a Christmas present. She had no doubt he was interested in many science-related things, but she didn't understand it enough to know what he'd like.

She remembered how he mentioned he'd like to know more about her field, particularly about deducing meaning. Perhaps she could get him a book about that? But that still sounded like the kind of gift appropriate for last year, not this one. It needed something more personal.

Giving him things related to Vulcan seemed absurd, and things related to Earth seemed terra-centric. Something related to both, perhaps? Was it possible? Vulcan. Hot, desert planet. What was there that could work?

She thought of her own home. There were similarities. If only she could bring him a bit of African sun...

In the end, she decided for a complete meal from a well-known African restaurant– she was a useless cook herself, so something home-made was not an option. And that book about deducing meaning. It struck her that both of these gifts were sort of about her, and that it was really rather egoistic, but she had no better ideas.

She was also quite certain that last year's mode of delivery was not appropriate anymore. She knew he was an early riser, since it was him who suggested he'd call her at 800 hours during the summer, and so at that time on the 25th of December, she took her carefully wrapped packages and quietly left the room, trying not to wake up sleeping Gaila.

She headed to the staff building, feeling nervous. She has never been in his quarters before, and it was a bit bold of her to just march there, but well, there were no rules against it, and it was Christmas.

She announced her presence to the com at the main door and waited a moment for him to direct her to his flat and let her in. When she arrived at her location and he opened the door, he was dressed in Vulcan robes. She realized she has never seen him out of uniform before. She stared a bit. He looked so majestic and inapproachable, she felt stupid for coming here. He looked at her for a moment, and then, just as she felt like excusing herself and leaving, he said: "_Come in_," and stepped away from the door.

She entered and looked around. The rooms were decorated in Vulcan style, unsurprisingly, and they were hotter than his office or rest of the Academy.

"_Please, take a seat_," he motioned her to a regulation couch as he took the armchair.

"_Thank you. I came to wish you merry_ _winter solstice_, _Commander, and to give you my gifts in person_." She presented the first one. Spock inclined his head as he took it from her, and carefully unwrapped it. He looked at the title he saw written on the package with the memory card, then turned to her. "_Thank you_," he said. "_It is true we have not had the time to discuss this subject since you mentioned it for the first time. I will gladly read this book, and then perhaps the ensuing discussion will be more interesting for you_."

"_I'm sure it would have been interesting anyway, but I am not confident I could explain things as clearly as it is done in this book. It's really very good_." She paused. "_There is a second gift_," she said, handing him the other, much bigger package. He raised one eyebrow and unpacked it, then raised the second one when he saw the food inside. He looked at her questioningly.

"_It's a full menu of African cuisine, the kind of food we eat at home, ordered from a good African restaurant in town. Don't worry, it's completely vegetarian. I though you might find the comparison with Vulcan cuisine interesting, since the climate is not dissimilar, and on Earth, it is often true that similar climates produce similar kinds of cuisine_."

He nodded. "_Thank you, that does sound like a fascinating experiment_."

She swallowed. "_There is a second part to this gift. It's a standing invitation to come to Africa and have me as a guide there to the most interesting places. I know that the time between the end of school year and the launch of Enterprise is probably going to be too busy for you to take me up on it then, but whenever you decide to and I'm planetside...I think you'd like it there._"

"_Thank you, I believe I would, too_." There was that small smile of his again, and somehow from that smile, Nyota knew that he appreciated the thing that made her so nervous when she offered it – the assumption that there was going to be enough...friendship between them still when the Enterprise returned from her first mission that the visit would still be a possibility.

"_I have a two-part gift for you, too_," he said and handed her a package. When she unwrapped it, she discovered it was a music collection – Vulcan lute. Played by Vulcans. She smiled brightly: "_Thank you so much_!" She knew he must have asked someone on Vulcan, most likely his mother, to send it to him. There was effectively no way to get to it from the outside.

Then she frowned: "_You said it was a two-part gift_?"

"_Yes. I believe you once expressed the wish to hear me play the lute_?"

And then he got up and brought the lute and sat down and started playing and she really thought she had died and gone to heaven.


	24. Chapter 24

AN: This obsession with Star Trek has led me to a new appreciation of the night sky. During our canoeing trip, when my husband showed me Vega (I can never find anything in the sky, not even with a star map), which seems to be, logically, the primary of Delta Vega, and consequently of Vulcan too - I was beyond excited. Hello, Spock, how are you up there?

I don't own this. If I did, the problem explained in the note bellow wouldn't exist.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota's exam preparation that year was significantly disrupted by memories of the Christmas Day. She hadn't seen Spock since, and so every time she thought about him- which was happening with increasing frequency – she saw him sitting with his lute, his fingers deftly moving over the strings. He'd played many famous songs and asked for her voice to accompany him. She knew the lyrics by heart, as well as the melody, so it shouldn't have posed a challenge, yet her voice had a tendency to quiver and be unstable, which made her embarrassed. Knowing how perfect his hearing was didn't exactly help.

He'd played some songs she didn't know, too, and she just listened and watched him. Then he paused and offered her tea, and she told him she'd make it so that he could continue playing. And he did, but she realized after a moment it was not actually a specific song – he was improvising. She was astonished – she had no idea he was even capable of that. But she turned back to the tea, and after a moment, she realized she was humming in tune to his song. He didn't seem to mind. She brought the tea, but he didn't stop playing, and an idea occurred to Nyota. Hesitating just for a moment, she thought 'oh, what the hell, it's the season,' and started singing an improvised carol to his tune. He looked almost surprised, but didn't stop, and the song went on and on for quite a while. When they wrapped it up, he looked at her and said: "Thank you. Now, I'd be interested in trying the African food, if you'd be willing to provide an explanation?"

And so she'd spent another hour, commenting on what he tasted and listening to him comparing it to Vulcan cuisine. He was favorably impressed with ugali, even though he ate it much blander than she'd prefer. Gomen kifto was too spicy for him, but he did say that it reminded him of some traditional recipes, cooked for Vulcan weddings and such, which were said to come back from pre-Surak times. North African sweets, however, were left for her to eat – Spock found the idea of so much sugar unbearable. It was his loss, she'd thought as she enjoyed the excellent halva.

And then, after this, she had just gone back to her room. Just like that. Could she really be blamed for having trouble concentrating on her exams?

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Rachel came back from Jerusalem where she went for the break to attend her sister's wedding, and the moment exams were over, she called on Nyota to go out for a coffee.

"I need a bit of common-sense feminism now," she said.

"That bad?" Nyota asked sympathetically.

"You should see his sisters!" Rachel exclaimed indignantly.

"Whose sisters?" Nyota was confused.

"David's...Rebecca's new husband's," Rachel sighed. "They are the two most arrogant, fundamentalist cows I have ever met in my life, and so bloody smug and superior..."

"Well, Rebecca's not marrying _them_," Nyota pointed out.

"Now, but what if she ends up like them?" Rachel asked desperately.

"Come on, you don't turn into a cow just because you get married! Otherwise we'd have to stop Aisha from doing it right now!"

"Aisha is going to be a married Starfleet scientist. What can a woman of potential turn into, once she is chained to a house and children?" Rachel seemed seriously bothered by this idea.

Nyota sighed. "Your other sister, Sarah, didn't turn into a cow either, did she?"

"Well, I don't want Rebecca to turn into Sarah either!"

They were getting nowhere. "You know you can't make your sister's life choices. She is her own person."

"I know," Rachel conceded, "but she's also my favorite little sister. Watching it there, I couldn't stand the idea of her living in it!"

"Did _she_ seem to mind?" Nyota asked pointedly.

"No..."

"Then you don't get a say. What is her husband like?" She asked the important question.

"Oh, _he_ is all right. Rebecca isn't dumb, she wouldn't marry some idiot," Rachel said proudly.

"Then you don't have anything to worry about. But I think it's time to have another girls' night out, nonetheless. I'll let the others know, and we will arrange a date," Nyota promised.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_I'm aware i__t was supposed to be a special winter solstice treat, but I do hope I will hear you play again sometimes. It was wonderful_," Nyota said the first Tuesday of the new semester on their walk to Spock's office.

"_I'm sure it was not a solitary occasion, even though it would be illogical to waste out limited study session time on it,_" Spock pointed out.

"_Yes,_" Nyota agreed even though the fact that it was illogical did not mean she didn't wish they'd do that.

"_I presume all of your exams went without problems_?" He enquired politely.

She nodded. "_Mostly, yes. Xelatian is never completely without problems for me, but apart from that, it was satisfactory. The core classes this year were mostly of the kind that was relatively easy for me, nothing too reminiscent of engineering theory, so that helped_."

He raised one eyebrow: "_You have objections against engineering theory_?"

Nyota laughed. "_Only that I have trouble with it, which is hardly the subject's fault. Really, I don't know why that is, but I can repair basically any device – as long as it's not, you know, warp engine or something – but ask me to learn the theory behind it, and I come against a stumbling block. I don't know why, I never had any trouble with language theory, even though I am, admittedly, more interested in the practice_."

"_You cannot expect to have a natural flare for everything_," he commented.

"_I suppose not, but I wish I had at least for everything I can come across in Starfleet_," she admitted.

"_Starfleet encompasses security officers, navigators, linguists, doctors, engineers and scientists_," Spock said drily. "_Linguists deal with all hundred and twelve Federation languages and about ten relevant others, engineers deal with computer technology as well as starship technology and warp technology, and the science department on a starship encompasses astrophysicists, geologists, botanists, zoologists, microbiologists, ecologists, climatologists, theoretical physicists, space geographs, anthropologists and archeologists. Not only it isn't in human power to understand all of this at once, it is not in the power of any known species_."

Nyota laughed again: "_Thank you for making me feel better. I wonder if you have this kind of problem sometimes too, asking too much of yourself_?"

He thought for a moment. "_I think I used to, but in a slightly different sphere. Specifically, it concerned my attempts to be as Vulcan as possible, more Vulcan, in fact, than the Vulcans themselves._"

She nodded in understanding, knowing where that one was rooted, and after a while, said: "_I find it very interesting, that the supposedly perfectly logical Vulcans can be so prejudiced. I would have thought prejudice was the exact opposite of logic._"

"_It is a perfect example of what logic without sufficient data – and without a firm moral compass – can do. They knew my mother was human, and from there it seemed logical to assume I'd be half-human in all aspects of my personality, and therefore more emotional_."

"_That would still be no reason to torment you about it_!"

"_But you see, I wasn't showing more emotion," he explained calmly. "That created cognitive dissonance my peers were trying to eliminate by provoking me to emotion, thus proving they were right_."

"_Vulcans are subject to anxiety caused by cognitive dissonance_?" Nyota was surprised.

He inclined his head. "_Very much so. As far as I can judge, I would say it causes us more acute discomfort than it does to humans. Humans seem to be able to ignore it sometimes. That is impossible for us. Of course, the proper Vulcan way of dealing with it is examining both propositions and determining the fault, but not every Vulcan always acts perfectly Vulcan, as I'm sure you know. So trying to prove that you pre-conceived notion was indeed correct if often the actual reaction, especially in young children_."

"_I find it disgusting that this is tolerated, while some benign expression of emotion would not be_," Nyota muttered.

"_Not just benign_," he corrected. "_If they started to outright insult me and fight with me, it would have been very much frowned upon. But once they framed it all as an experiment...their acts were still considered uncouth, but not quite to the same level. After all, as the teachers would explain to my parents, it was not their fault I was so emotional, it was my unfortunate parentage_."

Nyota laughed incredulously. "_How did your father bear hearing that_?"

He considered. "_Back then, I though that without a single emotion. Now, I'm not so certain, but I have no indication of anything in this respect. I haven't had the opportunity to ask mother yet – or perhaps the courage. Hearing that it was difficult for him would not benefit me in any way, and would only make me sorry that I was a source of emotional distress to him, albeit indirectly._"

She looked at him sideways. "_I'm surprised you discuss your father's emotion so openly_."

There was that small smile again. "_I'm certain he would not thank me for it, but in conversation with a human, I find it unnecessary and illogical to keep to all of Vulcan taboos, especially when they might hinder understanding, as now. I do not wish to create an impression that Vulcans posses no emotions_."

Nyota nodded. "_I know, like with the lute. Just not displaying it_."

"_Precisely_."

"_Just out of curiosity, were their prejudices really based on logic? Was it really logical to expect you'd be more emotional_?" Nyota probed.

"_I'm inclined to think not at all. As I'm sure you're aware, I'm a product of genetic engineering. Human and Vulcan genetic code are not, naturally, compatible, so I was build on the basis of my father's genes, but some changes according to my mother's characteristics were made to the code. I never knew what changes exactly, since my mother insisted it was not healthy for my personal development to know precisely my genetic make-up. I used to assume one of the tweaks was added emotionality, but thinking about it logically, I do not think my father would have approved of that. Once they decided my make-up would be Vulcan, he would not have considered that a wise decision. I can trace some of my mother's personality traits in myself, so those are probably what has been modified – though I must take into account that she raised me, and some traits might not be genetic. But, as I said, overly I believe I have no predisposition for more emotionality than pure Vulcans_."

"_Well, from what you just said, you _are_ a pure Vulcan – genetically, you're not a son of Lady Amanda, are you_?" Nyota asked, hoping he was Vulcan enough that she would not offend him by this statement.

"_That depends on your perspective," _he replied_. "It is true that I have none of her human DNA in me – that would be impossible – but I have the equivalent of many of its sections in my Vulcan genetic code. It is actually an interesting question. But of course, for medical purposes and all such things, I can usually be seen as Vulcan – even though as far as I know, some of my physical characteristics have been altered too, not just my character, so not even that is straightforward._"

"_Have you ever minded? Being a product of genetic engineering, I mean_?"

He seemed surprised. "_No. Why would I? It would be entirely illogical_."

Nyota smiled and nodded. She though that Ambassador Sarek might have had another reason for not wanting his son to be overly emotional, and that he was probably right.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: For those of you who don't like the idea of Spock being a product of genetic engineering: I can understand. I could have just accepted the canon idea of humanoid progenitors leading to all of us having a compatible DNA and being able to crossbreed, but everything in me just screams no. I understand the creators of Star Trek needed some scientific explanation for every species being played by human actors, but frankly, I just think they should have left it to our suspension of disbelief. Fans would understand there were limits to what you can do in a TV show and wouldn't have questioned it much, and really, the canon explanation isn't that much more credible. The idea of ancient progenitors is pretty fantasy-like, and it's a slap in the face of scientific theories of the origin of life and evolution. It's all very Daniken-ey, and that's _so_ not my cup of tea. Plus, it's ludicrous in other respects too – I mean, we're unable to crossbreed with apes, but we would be able to crossbreed with a species from a different planet? And the same kind of genome in the first life form on all the planets is supposed to ensure that? My nonsense alert is going off so loud. So, this is probably the biggest bit of canon I decided to ignore. You have every right to disagree with me, however, and if it makes you uncomfortable, feel free to just ignore that bit of information and pretend Spock was a natural-born son of Amanda and Sarek for the rest of the story. :)


	25. Chapter 25

AN: Not mine. Enjoy.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Gaila intercepted Nyota on the first of February, a determined look on her face. "There is no way you're going to spend this year's Valentine's in a lab," she stated firmly. "No way. Do you hear me? I will arrange a date for you, just name the guy you want, they all want you, but you. Are. Going. Out."

"Gaila..."

"No, I'm not listening to any excuses. This is your last year as a student, last year on Earth, you have to enjoy yourself! Who knows what kind of selection is going to be on Enterprise, right?"

Nyota took her firmly by her shoulders and held her at arms length. "No, Gaila, listen to me. Listen!"

She just held her and looked at her long enough for Gaila to quiet down. "OK, I'm listening. What is it?"

"There is no one with whom I'd rather be on Valentine's Day, no one in the whole universe, than Commander Spock."

Gaila stared. Then blinked. And then she was hugging Nyota very tightly. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Ny."

"It's okay," her friend muttered.

So, Gaila automatically assumed it was one-sided. That was probably for the best, and it was a logical assumption, really. One she should probably be making herself. He was a freakin' Vulcan. But there was just something that told her it was not quite so simple. She couldn't really put her finger on it, but there were small things...there seemed to be a kind of unspoken understanding between them, something too fragile and uncertain to put into words, but something nonetheless.

"I'm really okay," she repeated. "Just don't try to take my dream Valentine away from me, all right?"

Gaila softly smiled at her. Then she grinned. "Wait, so you're telling me there actually was some foundation to the rumours that circulated last year?"

"There most definitely was not," Nyota said in indignation. "First, I didn't feel like this about him a year ago. Second, the rumours actually assumed there was something going on between us, which there definitely isn't and never was. Except for Vulcan practice and transmission analysis, that is."

"But still. There's no smoke without fire."

Nyota sighed. "Of course, of all the Earth's proverbs, you're just bound to remember that one."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Let me introduce a new member of our group," Gaila said cheerfully and proudly when they sat down with their drinks in Space Bay once again. "This is Pylas Tran, and she's a senior medical cadet. Pylas, this is Nyota, Harshika, Aisha, Ines and Rachel."

There was universal shaking of hands. "So," Pylas said, "Gaila said I should support her as the only non-Terran here up to now, and also that I had the honour of representing the doctors here?"

"Gaila takes this way too seriously," Harshika explained.

"I do not!" Gaila defended herself. "If we are to be good Starfleet officers, we need to move in circles as diverse as possible, to be at home in diversity, which is necessary to succeed in Starfleet."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "You are aware that becoming friends with someone just because he or she is a different species is a form of objectification, right? I mean, I know our interspecies ethics wasn't worth a damn, but..."

Nyota was uncomfortably reminded of the beginnings of her friendship with Spock. Gaila, meanwhile, stared at Rachel like she was stupid. "Everyone I become friends with is a different species. There is only one other Orion in the whole Starfleet."

Rachel waved her hand. "Because they're a more interesting species than human, then."

"Yes, of course I am aware. But you can contact them first for that reason and then slowly start being friends with them just for them, you know, personally. Like me and Pylas."

Rachel turned to the Andorian. "Sorry, I don't want to speak for you, but just...don't you mind? It irritates the hell out of me!"

Pylas shrugged. "Frankly, Gaila was so open about it there was nothing to be angry about. She just came and said, 'I want to get to know some non-human females, and Topek Shrem said you were all right. Care to join me for lunch?' It was objectification in a way, but so honest and well intentioned, and, well, open-ended that I saw no reason to get angry."

"Open-ended?"

"I could see she didn't have any preconceived notions about what an Andorian should be like, and wasn't trying to fit me into them. She just wanted to meet one, for whatever reason," Pylas explained.

"It's like a bug you're missing in your collection!" Rachel said indignantly.

"Yeah. But that attitude didn't last long, she switched to speaking to me as a person pretty soon, so really, no hard feelings."

"But why would you even accept her invitation?" Rachel still didn't understand.

Another shrug from Pylas. "And why not? If I refused to talk to anyone who objectified me in the slightest, I'd be doomed to be forever alone."

Once again that evening, there were words spoken that touched Nyota closely. But she had had this discussion with herself many times already, and she refused to take the way Pylas did. She refused to lower her expectations. Whatever the cost. After all, lately, it was starting to look like she had been right all along, and that her stubbornness was not, in fact, doomed to fail...

"You're certainly pretty good at breaking the preconceived notions," Harshika was saying. "I mean, Andorians are supposed to be passionate and rather aggressive, but you're just being really phlegmatic about this...contrary to Rachel."

"Well, at least there's no stereotype about Jews regarding this, so I don't have to worry about that," Rachel replied, still confused by Pylas' approach.

"Are we going to talk about me all evening?" The Andorian girls asked. "Not thatI would probably mind, you know."

Nyota, too, thought it would probably be better to change the topic, even though she made a note to herself to remind Gaila that just because Pylas personally didn't mind, it didn't mean it was all right to act that way towards anyone.

"Well, I did want to ask what you guys thought about that simulation on Friday," Aisha said from her position in the corner.

There was a collective groan. "I thought," Gaila commented, "that only GS majors should have to go thought this. I'm just a poor engineer, why should I have to deal with the stress of a hostage situation while at school?"

Aisha took a sip of her Virgin Mojito and shrugged. "Well, it _is_ just them who have to take the main role in bargaining, so I think we shouldn't complain too much. My sister went through it last year, acting as the captain, and she was frustrated the whole day afterwards."

"How is Khadija doing, anyway?" Ines asked curiously.

Aisha smiled. "She has already managed to impress everyone on her shift, and now she's bored."

Nyota laughed. "Frankly, I'm surprised it took so long. At least now she has only four more months to be bored. I'm terrified to hear what she does – boredom and brilliant people do not mix. If we hear that Pegasus has a new captain, we will all know who it is."

All the other girls laughed too, Aisha loudest of all.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

That year, Valentine's Day was on Friday, which made it the perfect date for everyone. The Academy was effectively deserted, and in the cafeteria, they were literally alone.

"_It surprises me a little_," Spock was saying, "_that you never seem to observe this holiday in the traditional manner. From what I know, even women who are single tend to find a male companion for the evening and go out with him_."

"_Well, I have a male companion, don't I_?"

"_Yes, but we are hardly 'out'_."

Nyota sighed. "_You know how you once asked me why I had inferiority complexes and I told you I might tell you one day_?"

"_Yes_."

"_This ties up to the same thing. But I'm still not able to answer your question. Not because it's too personal, I've told you many personal things already in the course of the last few months, but because the topic is...I simply cannot discuss it with you. Not now. It's nothing personal or anything, just..._" she trailed off.

"_I understand_," Spock replied.

"_Do you_?"

"_Yes_."

Looking at him, she had a feeling he understood more than she perhaps wanted him to.

"_They're closing down the cafeteria and we're bothering them here,_" he said after a pause. "_We should leave_."

Unwillingly, she got up, not wanting to end her variation on Valentine's date so soon.

They left the cafeteria and he turned to her. "_Since you don't seem to have any agenda today, now might be a good time to grant your request of another Vulcan lute play_."

Her face immediately lit up. "_I'd appreciate it very much_."

They walked to his quarters in silence. "_Commander_," she said when they approached them, "_it's Valentine's Day, evening, and we're walking together to your quarters. Aren't you worried that if someone checked the security cameras, the suspicion from last year would return? There are no security cameras in your room to prove your innocence this time_."

"_I do not believe I would be bothered again in the same matter that has already been proven false, at least not without a more concrete proof. And, in any case, I refuse to stop doing something entirely correct just because it could be interpreted in a wrong light. Acting on fear leads only to paranoia,_" he stated firmly.

She nodded. "_I just thought I should warn you_."

"_I appreciate it. Now, come in_."

She did, and he motioned her to the couch again, going to pick up the lute and sitting in his armchair. Without any further words, he started to play...and sing.

He didn't sing the last time, he let her instead, and now she realized it was probably because he wanted her to get used to it slowly. If all of this had come at once, it would have probably been a sensory overload. She was having trouble not turning into goo as it was. And when she realized what it was he was singing...

She knew the song. It was one of the very old Vulcan ones. Tradition held it was pre-Awakening, and while that generally sounded unlikely, it was a love song. There were several of these, and the most accepted theory was that they came from a time shortly after the Awakening, when Vulcans were still emotional enough to do love songs at all, but already cultured enough to actually appreciate such sophisticated music. The fact that they didn't destroy every evidence of such a weakness, and that the songs were still known and occasionally played, was a small mystery.

These songs were deeply emotional. Emotional in a way human songs simply weren't. The lyrics were in Old High Vulcan, and the meaning wasn't really translatable into English. But she understood it well enough.

He played all of them, and sang all of them, and she just sat, unable to stop watching him and desperately wishing, not really knowing for what. There was longing in those songs, there was desire, there was love, there was jealousy, and there was passion. Lots of passion, that seemed to go straight from his fingers on the lute to her heart. And he was looking at her the entire time, as he played and sang those things. She knew her heart was beating faster and her breathing was shallower than normal. She couldn't move. She wasn't sure what he wanted her to do, if he wanted her to do something, and she wasn't sure what she wanted to do herself, still aware that it was not so simple, that she couldn't simply walk to him and kiss him, but the reasons of why exactly that would be unwise were less and less clear in her head as he continued to sing.

And then he ended, and he just kept looking at her steadily and she was gathering her courage to take the initiative because they have obviously crossed the line of propriety and it didn't matter any more, but after several seconds, Spock said quietly: "_Good night_."

And she nodded mutely, stood up on shaky legs and went back to her dormitory, to her room. The only clear thought in her head was that sleep was not going to come easily that night.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Why, yes, I _am_ evil, why do you ask?


	26. Chapter 26

AN: I hope you won't find this chapter too disappointing. There isn't much more left to go, I promise.

Updates are probably going to be every three days from now on, instead of every two. Just so you know. I have to work some time too. :))

They're not mine. I just enjoy torturing them.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When Spock was called to Captain's Nguyen office two days after Valentine's Day, he remembered Ensign Uhura's warning very clearly. But he knew for a fact that the relevant person was off planet, so...had he been wrong in his deduction? It was unlikely.

The Captain confirmed his suspicion. "Another accusation of misconduct, Spock, and I'm afraid I have to bother you about this one, even on Sunday. It's not so easy to dismiss." She sighed. "I got a message stating that you took a student to your quarters on Friday evening, it being Valentine's Day, and that she left a considerable amount of time later. The security cameras confirm this, and since there are no cameras in your room, I cannot simply disprove it as I did before. So, what can you tell me about it?"

"Yes, I did take Ensign Uhura to my quarters on Friday," Spock said calmly, with precision. "We met for dinner before, as we regularly do, and she mentioned having no plans for the evening, and seemed slightly disheartened by it. I am certain you can understand, Captain, that after meting with her for fourteen and half months every day, a certain degree of friendship has formed between us." The Captain seemed surprised at this, but she didn't say anything, and Spock continued. "I wished to make her feel better, and I knew she liked Vulcan music, especially the lute. Therefore, I took her to my quarters to play the lute. I have done so once before, when she visited me there on Christmas morning. After I played a number of songs, she left. It was still relatively early, 2034 hours, to be precise. Our activity was not improper, the time was not improper, and there is no regulation against cadets visiting officers in their quarters."

The Captain nodded, apparently thinking. "I would have probably been more suspicious if there haven't already been two accusations which proved to be false. But not by much, seeing that it's you we're talking about. But Spock, be careful. I think this was someone else, that your estimate that the first person would not try again was correct, the style was different, but that just makes it worse. It means there is more than one person who has it in for you. Watch out, will you?"

Spock inclined his head. "I promise to do my best, Captain."

"Do you have any idea who could this other person be?" She asked curiously.

"Not at present, Captain," he said honestly.

"Very well. Dismissed, and remember what you promised."

As he left, he considered the situation. Such warning was probably useful. The situation had almost got out of hand on Friday, and it required an unusual strength of will of him to simply send ensign Uhura back to her dormitory. Caution was necessary for more than one reason. He would have to keep himself in check, even more so than usual.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"So I tapped my gossip resources and found out what I could about your Commander," Gaila announced cheerfully one day in early spring.

"He's not my Commander," Nyota protested weakly.

"Whatever. It took so long only because there's so little about him, and I was trying to find out something more all this time. But it just seems that apart from that gossip about you and him, there's only one other thing."

Nyota raised her head from her book.

"Ha, I knew you'd be interested. Well, apparently, there was a young biologist in the science department who was quite struck with him. Head over heels in love. Unfortunately – for her, that is, fortunately for you, of course – he didn't return her sentiments. I'm not sure what she expected, but whatever. In any case, when it became clear he was not interested, she sort of lost it. Not entirely, not foaming at the mouth or anything, but she started telling everybody about it. And I mean like everybody. People who sat with her at lunch, her superior officers, his superior officers...everybody was trying to be compassionate with her and everything, but it got to be a bit too much. Eventually, they convinced her to go to some far off planet with a bunch of colonists. She left last autumn. Cool, isn't it?" Gaila finished proudly.

Nyota wasn't so sure about that. "Was her name by any chance Kalomi?"

"Yes! How do you know?"

Nyota sighed. "I actually met her."

Gaila stared. "Met her? When? How?"

Nyota considered for a moment, then said: "We were sitting in the Commander's office one evening, going over a recording, when suddenly there's someone at the door. So he tells the person to come in and it's this Miss Kalomi, and she starts saying something, but then she spots me and turns all jealous and stops speaking and just leaves. I was completely confused of course, and the Commander told me that...well I suppose I can say it now, you know it anyway. He said that he was aware that Miss Kalomi thought of him as more than just a colleague, but he refused to tell me more, stating it would be a breach of her privacy. Well now I see both how he knew and why he didn't want to tell me about it. He didn't want to completely embarrass her."

Gaila rolled her eyes. "Though it's hardly a breach of privacy when she herself told everyone."

Nyota shrugged. "He might not know that. He doesn't exactly talk to many people."

"True enough. It must have been terribly embarrassing for him, though...what a strange woman," Gaila mused.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota was thinking about Miss Kalomi a long time after this talk. Was she going to end up like this, too? Half crazy, sent across the galaxy? She hoped not, but she certainly felt like she was going crazy ever since the Valentine's. Every night, she had dreams about Spock. They always started with him playing the old Vulcan love songs in his quarters and her listening, but ended significantly less innocently than the real encounter. But at dinners and in study sessions, Spock continued to act like nothing changed. She was confused. The day after the Valentine's, she was so sure, but now...what if he had been merely humouring her, trying to make the day special for her, feeling pity for her not being out with anyone? He knew of her interest in Vulcan culture, and these were the oldest songs preserved, so maybe he was just singing them as educative material, not realizing how she'd see it? It sounded pretty thin even to her, but with the days passing and him still pretending nothing happened, it increasingly looked like the most likely solution.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_Are you apprehensive about the upcoming field simulation_?" Spock asked one evening in March as they were sitting down to dinner.

"_Naturally. It is supposed to be the most difficult field simulation in the whole four-year course of study_," Nyota pointed out.

"_You don't need to be_," he stated like it was a fact.

She smiled at this. "_Thank you for your confidence, but field trips are not precisely my main strength_."

"At _the age of nine, you impressed my father. By that, you managed something that I never did in my thirty-eight years of life. I have full confidence in your abilities regarding absolutely anything_." He was smiling as he said it, his little non-smile, but she still thought there was some bitterness behind it.

"_Your father_," she echoed, pausing for a moment and then saying: "_It is so strange to me that someone as logical as a Vulcan would hold your career choice against you after all this time. I understand he did not approve, but is it logical to continue his reproaches after it is done_?"

He looked down at his meal as he said: "_It cannot precisely be said that he continues his reproaches_."

Nyota was confused. "_What do you mean? You said he still disapproved_?"

Spock raised his head and looked directly into her eyes, and said: "_We haven't spoken for fourteen years, eight months and two weeks_."

She stared. "_And you consider this logical_?"

He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "_Not exactly, but it is hard to say on which side does the lack of logic lays. After I left for Earth, the only one of my parents who ever contacted me was my mother. When I called, it was her who answered the calls. I did not want to ask for father, I did not want to force my presence on him. When I went back home during the summer, my father was absent from the house the whole time. Mother told me he refused postings to Earth during my studies at the Academy, and accepted only after I left on USS Potemkin. The last time I tried to visit was two and half years ago. My father still avoided me. I am not planning further visits in the near future_."

Nyota shook her head. "_Why do you say it is unclear on whose side is the lack of logic? It seems to be clearly on your father's._"

"_Perhaps, but I am his son," _Spock explained._ "He had some right to expect obedience, and to expect me to ask his forgiveness. My mother insists that if I had requested him right after my departure from Earth, it would have gone differently_."

Nyota still wasn't satisfied. "_This all sounds very emotional to me, your father being too proud to accept you back_."

"_I am quite certain that my father has sound logical reasons for his acts. However, as we are currently not speaking, I cannot know what it is," _he explained calmly.

"_I can tell you one thing. If the famous Vulcan logic leads someone to leave his house for two months when his son arrives, then I have only words of scorn for it_," she said sharply.

Spock looked at her. "_I would ask you not to judge my father when you haven't heard his side of the story. I have been attempting to do the same for the last fifteen years_."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Spock's age counts on him graduating from a Vulcan high school at 19, then spending four years at a Vulcan college and graduating at 23, then going to Starfleet Academy, from which he graduated at 27, then joining the crew of USS Potemkin for six years, and at 33 starting to teach at the Academy, where he was to spend five years, till he was 38. Just so you know, in case it seems too old to anyone. (Don't forget that Vulcans are longer-lived, and Nyota is 27, so the age difference is not that big. It's less than between me and my husband, and he's not even Vulcan. :)


	27. Chapter 27

AN: Almost there – just one more chapter till the events of the film begin to unfold.

I still don't own them, and I never will.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Spring rolled in and Nyota was trying to work as hard as possible, for one to make herself forget about the Valentine's, since nothing seemed to be coming of it at the moment and so there was no point in dwelling on it, and also because she knew that once her spring depression kicked in, her productivity would be significantly diminished. It was only when April was drawing to a close that she realized it was definitely spring already, all the signs were there, and yet she was feeling fine. Perhaps a little tense, but that was probably due to the fact that she was expecting the depression any day now. She looked around once more to make sure and yes, the birds were chirping, flowers were blooming, and all around the Academy, cadets were holding hands and kissing in public places. No one could mistake this for anything but spring. She was confused, and also exuberant.

Spock noticed, too, shortly after she realized. "_Your spring problems seem to be less severe this year, or are you simply hiding them better?_" He asked one evening.

"_Actually, they seem to be all but gone_."

He smiled. "_That is pleasing to know_."

It was a knowing smile, actually, and one that unnerved her a little. "_I wonder why that is_," she risked muttering.

He looked at her sideways and said: "_I find it difficult to believe that you wouldn't have already formed a theory as to that._"

"_I do have a theory, yes, but I'd be interested to hear your opinion on the matter nevertheless_."

"_Perhaps you could share your theory first, then?_"

Nyota sighed. "_No, I don't think so. __I told you I wasn't ready to discuss this with you._"

"_Then I would consider it unwise for me to elaborate on the topic_."

Another sigh. "_And if I told you I didn't mind?_"

"_You once told me that when it comes to objective evaluation, humans perform the worst when it comes to evaluating themselves. I am not certain you can objectively asses your mental state and make such a statement_."

Nyota stopped and turned to look at him. "_You are very stubborn; do you know that, Commander?_"

"_Perhaps. __I am also known to be very careful._" He opened the door to his office. "_After you_."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"We're almost done, aren't we?" Harshika remarked to the seven female senior cadets gathered around a table in Space Bay, and her response was numerous nods. "How do you all feel about it?"

"I can't wait to be done," Ines said. "I can't wait to get my hands on a real ship with a real warp core, to be one of the people in charge of it...I'm counting the days."

"It's crazy," Gaila noted. "She's so excited, she almost forgets to be cynical about it."

Ines shrugged. "Well, that's what I've wanted to do all my life."

"I'm sort of excited to try my hand on a real ship too," Gaila said, "even though computers are pretty much the same everywhere. But being in space for a mission, well, it's cool."

"I'm with Ines," Rachel noted, "I'm beyond excited. Just the idea of the whole wide space waiting for me to explore...all those magnificent discoveries to be made, by me, of course...I can't leave Earth soon enough. I'm going to be the most famous scientist in Starfleet, the one who makes the most discoveries, just you wait!" Then she turned to Aisha and added sort of apologetically: "At least in geology."

Aisha laughed: "Oh, I'll gladly leave that position to you. I think I'm more interested in looking at some things in detail, you know, stuff we studied and seemed strange to me and I wanted to understand more. I don't care about famous discoveries as much."

Rachel laughed too. "Oh, thank you," she said, "now you made me look all shallow. But I understand you have another reason to look forward to getting out of school? When is the wedding?"

There was a soft, happy smile on Aisha's face as she said: "10th of July. And you are right, the main thing I can't wait for is finally being married to Ahmad and serving on the same ship with him, though I can't say the scientific work doesn't attract me. But well, I've sort of been doing that for quite some time now, though not in space, but I've never been married to Ahmad before." The other laughed, and Aisha turned to Harshika: "What about you, how are things with you and Pachai?"

"Marvelous. We've both managed to get an assistant position at the Academy, so we're staying on and seeing where another year takes us. I think that if everything goes well, we could get engaged next year, and then try being on a ship together and if that worked out, we could get married too." She smiled at Aisha: "I'm incredibly jealous, of course, of you being already confident enough in the relationship that you can get married."

Aisha shook her head: "Don't be. You didn't have to go through two years without Pachai. It made me confident enough – if Ahmad wanted to waver, he would have already – but it was still hell."

Harshika nodded. "I can understand. I wouldn't want that, that's why I really wanted us to get these jobs here, but still, I am looking forward to our future among the stars." She paused. "What about you, Pylas? Any excitement?"

"I think we medics mostly see it differently. Space means much more danger and less access to emergency and to second opinion and, basically, to anything. Space missions, from the doctor's point of view, are really just long desperate attempts to keep the crew alive until they get back to Andoria, or wherever they came from. At least that's what one of our teachers says."

"So I finally know where Leonard gets this from," Rachel muttered. Everyone had finished their drinks, and Ines volunteered to get them some more. After she left, Rachel turned to Nyota and said: "We really should set her up with Len, you know."

"Rachel, you heard her, she doesn't want to be set up."

"Then we just have to do it unobtrusively. We could have another meeting like this, and ask him to come."

"Hey, hey, slow down. These are girl-only meetings. That's the basic rule. You allow one guy in, and Gaila never stops bringing them."

"Oh come on, you must see how well they'd work together!"

Nyota thought for a while: "Okay, so here's the plan. After graduation, we meet once again, and we ask Leonard. We won't be cadets anymore, so technically it doesn't count, and it will be the last meeting, so there's no danger of Gaila bringing men to future evenings like this. Sounds good?"

Rachel nodded, as Gaila muttered "I wouldn't do that, I know the rules" half-heartedly.

Ines came back with their drinks and turned to Pylas again: "So you aren't looking forward to it at all?"

"Oh yes, I am. Like Gaila said, I want to be among the stars. I want to have some excitement, some adrenaline around me. I can't wait, really. It's just that my point of view is a bit less optimistic than yours. I realize the dangers, I know something might happen to one of us, for example."

"Don't be so grim," Harshika chastened.

"Nyota is keeping very quiet this evening," Harshika noticed. "Are you looking forward to active duty?"

Nyota smiled: "It's the other way round...The Enterprise is looking forward to me!"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"_I apologise in advance. It is possible I __will have to can__cel some of our study sessions in the following days_," Spock announced on a pleasant, warm evening in mid-May.

"_Of course, but why?_" Nyota asked, because he had never cancelled before.

"_One of the captains assigned to the ships currently docked here decided to leave the service quite unexpectedly_," he stated drily.

Nyota didn't want to believe her ears. "_What do you mean?_"

"_I believe that a word you could use, while it would perhaps be a bit too harsh, is desertion. It is not quite desertion, since we are not at war, but it is not completely dissimilar_," Spock said pedantically.

"_Why would he do that_?" she asked in shock.

"_To my knowledge, there was a woman involved_," he said without any hint of emotion in his voice.

"_You can't be serious. How – I mean, how can a Starfleet captain act in such a manner_?" She asked, feeling sort of betrayed by someone disregarding the honour of the service in such a way. It seemed to cast of a bit of a shadow on all of them.

"_You might want to take into consideration that he apparently loved her very much_," Spock said, still without any emotion, just with his usual precision.

Nyota stared. "_I can't believe you of all persons are using that argument._"

"_I do not really think it is very relevant, but I thought you might_," he explained.

She frowned. "_Is that a gender stereotype, or a species stereotype_?"

"_Since species stereotypes, contrary to the gender ones, have actually some basis in truth, I would dare to state it was the second_," and if there was some irritation behind this statement, he didn't let it show.

"_While that is true, stereotypes should be employed only when we lack particular information about the person we're dealing with. It's interspecies ethics, Commander Spohkh, you really should know that_," she smiled. "_I would think you knew me well enough to know that I would not consider 'love' an excuse in such a case_."

"_Certainly not a complete excuse, but I admit I did think it would soften your heart somehow._"

"_Betrayal is a betrayal, however pretty words you use to explain it away_," Nyota said in a hard voice. "'_Love' is a big word, but duty and responsibility are too_."

"_But if all of these words are equally big, how do humans know which should be the most important one_?" He seemed genuinely confused.

Nyota shrugged. "_That is simple enough. What came first? If you love first, you must not make any promises that would go against it. But once you do make promises, love is no excuse to break them. All Starfleet officers swear an oath which makes it clear that while on duty, and secondarily in service, their primary responsibility is the safety of the ship and of the people the Federation protects. From what you told me, he broke that oath_."

"_He did_."

"_There you go_." Nyota said in a tone of finality. It really was simple.

"_Your judgement is very strict_," Spock observed. "_Does that mean that people who love should not be joining Starfleet? Because their ability to swear and promise is impaired?_"

She shook her head. "_Certainly not. Merely that they have responsibility to the person – or people – they love, and must take it into account in their oath. If someone had a reason to believe that leaving his beloved here while he flies off to space would really break her heart, he couldn't in good conscience swear that oath and board the ship_."

Spock tilted his head. "_But surely that must be relatively common? Many cadets have partners here_."

"_Actually, cadets mostly date each other, and I think this is one of the reasons. Those relationships always have a fleeting quality to them, because they all know that most likely, after four years at the most, they will be separated to different ships. Those who do date outside the Academy – and have some morals – always try to make it very clear that they are not a long-term option, that they will disappear to the stars in relatively short term_," Nyota explained.

Spock looked down to his empty plate. "_I confess I have apparently underestimated the moral strength of our cadets_."

Nyota shrugged. "_It is not natural for you to think about these things, I don't expect student relationships are exactly a thing on Vulcan_."

"_No, they're not. But still, assuming most cadets were behaving more or less immorally was wrong of me,_" he pointed out.

"_Yes, it probably was. But humans assume you have no compassion and heart so often that I wouldn't worry about this little slip too much if I were you_." She paused and shook her head. "_I'm still shocked by that deserting captain. And did you say it will affect our study sessions? Why?_"

"_We have to assign a new captain to that ship_," Spock explained, "_have him approve his bridge officers, which is going to lead to changes in other assignments...it is going to be complicated enough_."

She blinked. "_Wait, you are in charge of assignments_?"

"_Not the regular ones, just the emergency ones. But this concerns the emergency ones, of course, since the deserting captain was stationed here precisely for cases of emergency_."

She sighed. "_That makes it much worse_."

He inclined his head. "_Indeed_."

She considered what she heard for a moment, then asked: "_There are actually special emergency assignments made in advance_?"

"_Of course. In case of emergency, the whole of junior and senior year would be assigned to ships_."

"_Yes, I know that_," Nyota interrupted.

"_That means you have ship crews consisting mainly of cadets, with experienced officers practically only on the bridge, and as heads of departments. Real assignments naturally look very different, with fresh graduates being mixed with much more experienced crews across the whole Starfleet. The only people who are fixed over a longer period of time in the emergency scheme are the bridge crews...or rather, they are fixed unless they desert. As we have just seen_," he said with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

"_Are you assigned to one of the emergency ships_?" She probed further, curious.

"_Normally, I would be – all teachers with bridge experience are, and most teacher with any starship experience at all – but right now, it's a rather special case. Enterprise is docking here, as you know, preparing to take flight. She is by no means an emergency ship, at this moment, however, she is here and so she would be used in an emergency. I am to be the science officer there, and so I would be a science officer there in an emergency, too_."

She smiled. "_Not that the chances of there being en emergency in the two months that are left to her launch are very high, since there has been none in the last four years_."

"_You are correct in that_," he said, because statistically speaking, it was true.


	28. Chapter 28

AN: This chapter – or parts of it – were the first bit of this story I wrote. In spite of that, I don't own it. Enjoy.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The last evening before the exams started, Nyota and Spock were listening to a recording in Spock's office when they were disturbed once more, this time by Captain Pike.

"Hello, Commander," he greeted cheerfully and looked questioningly at Nyota.

"Hello, Captain," Spock greeted him. "This is ensign Uhura, whom I am helping to perfect her transmission analysis skills. Ensign, this is Captain Pike."

"It is a pleasure, Captain." She turned to Spock: "Should I leave, sir?"

It was Captain Pike who answered: "No, no. I won't be a minute."

"You may listen to the recording again with headphones," Spock said, "and I will get back to you."

Nyota followed his advice. Unfortunately, the recording was rather quiet, and Captain Pike's voice was loud. Apparently, he came to ask Spock to attend a party for future Enterprise bridge crew.

"If it is not necessary, I'd rather not, Captain. You can, of course, make it an order," Spock stated calmly.

Pike shook his head: "I don't want to make it an order. I wish I could simply convince you."

"I see nothing attractive in the prospect. I much prefer talking to you in quiet calm surrounding of my office, or yours. It is not logical to go for conversation somewhere where one can hardly hear one's own words," Spock pointed out.

"It's not just about talking to me," Pike replied. "You can do that any time you want to, but this is about getting to know the rest of the crew. Team-building is important, Spock."

"I believe it is important for humans, Captain. As a Vulcan, I will not perform my duties any better because I met my future co-workers in a bar."

"But what about them? They will feel more comfortable working with you if they meet you before."

"I am not certain that is correct, Captain. You are aware that to humans who meet me for the first time and who have not had much experience with Vulcans, I seem aloof and cold and often they are irritated by my demeanour. What is tolerable to them in a work environment, because there is some justification for it, would be intolerable in a bar, and yet my behaviour would not change. Therefore, my opinion is that logically, by going to that bar, I would actually make the co-operation with the rest of the bridge crew more difficult, not less," Spock explained patiently.

Pike seemed frustrated. "You need to unbend a little, Spock," he said. "Work and duty are not everything, you know. Logic is not everything. Happiness in life is not something bad or forbidden."

Spock paused, then said, "I see what is the purpose of this invitation now. You seem to assume that if I could just relax, if I could just give up my logic for a while, perhaps take some recreational drug that would work on me to achieve this, I would for the first time in my life be happy. That otherwise, happiness is impossible. Perhaps this holds true for humans. I cannot know that. It does, however, not hold true for Vulcans. Giving up our logic is not the way to our happiness."

"What is, then?" Pike asked a bit aggressively.

Spock tilted his head to the side. "What would you say is the way to human happiness?"

Pike shrugged. "There isn't one universal path. Everybody is different. But in general...people often see attaining their goals and dreams in life as the way to their happiness, and also finding peace and love...romantic love," the Captain said, with emphasis on the last two words.

Spock was silent for a while, but at length, he answered: "Then, in this respect, humans and Vulcans do not differ so very much. All of these could be described as Vulcan ways to happiness, too."

Nyota suddenly felt very uncomfortable with sitting there. Pike paid her no mind, however, as he shook his head in disbelief: "Come on! Romantic love?"

Spock inclined his head. "Indeed."

"It's an emotion!" Pike exclaimed.

Spock raised one eyebrow. "Surely you are aware that Vulcans marry."

Pike shrugged. "Yes, but I assumed it was a logical business."

"There is nothing particularly logical about pledging to stay your entire life with someone, Captain. There is, of course, much logic involved in the selection of a partner. Indeed, that decision is never made against logic. However, once it was made, it is usual for love to occur between the partners."

Nyota remembered that conversation about lute and emotion a year ago, and also remembered, very clearly, that Spock did not mention love between married partners as one of the cases of Vulcan emotion. She wondered why, or rather, she wondered why he admitted to it so readily to Pike now.

"Isn't that quite illogical?" Pike teased.

With a quick glance in Nyota's direction, Spock asked: "You are aware that I play the lute, are you not?"

"Yes..." Pike seemed confused.

"What is the logic in that, Captain?"

Another shrug from Pike. "I don't know. I don't see any, but I'm sure you do."

"No. There is nothing logical." Spock paused. "It seems there is a misunderstanding about what precisely the Vulcan pride in logic means. It does not mean we refuse to do anything that does not have a strictly logical reason, and anything that has other reasons but strictly logical. It simply means we never do what is illogical – that is, what goes against logic. That still leaves enough room for...romantic love."

Captain Pike seemed to consider it, but then he shook his head. "No, I don't believe you! I have talked to Miss Kalomi, you know."

Nyota gave up any hope of actually listening to the transmission as she turned all of her attention to the dialogue, sparing a moment of horrification for the realization that Gaila didn't exaggerate, that Kalomi really did talk to _everyone_ about this, apparently.

Again, it took several seconds for Spock to answer. "What you mention is very personal, Captain, but I will reply nevertheless. Since Miss Kalomi shared with you her woes, I am sure she would forgive me if I now tell you something she would not wish you to know. Unfortunately, returning her feelings was indeed impossible, because it would have been highly illogical. We did not share the same values in life, something I am convinced is of the utmost importance. Things like duty and honour were not particularly important to her. She also entertained wishes to change my logical nature, which were of course undesirable to me. I had suspected this for some time, but I actually know this for certain now – I have made psionic contact with her. It was simply not an option."

Pike was silent for a long time, simply regarding Spock and Spock returning the stare, and then he sighed and said: "You really did try, didn't you?"

"Yes, Captain."

The Captain nodded and got up. "You are right that I was asking you about personal things, to which I probably had no right. I also made assumptions which were apparently not justified. I'm sorry."

Spock inclined his head, rising too. "That is quite all right, Captain. I myself sometimes have the tendency to disvalue human logic because it is often expressed in emotional terms. Contact with different species is always fraught with these dangers, and only mutual benevolence and patience can help overcome them."

"You're right, and I'm glad you have so much of it. I won't bother you anymore this evening and leave you to work. After all, originally, I just stopped by to offer an invitation."

Spock nodded at him and the captain smiled and left.

The moment he was out of the door, Nyota took off the headphones, got up from her chair and quickly walked to Spock. "_I'm so sorry, Commander_," she said. "_I did not mean to intrude_."

"_Do not be sorry. The captain thought you couldn't hear us over the headphones, and as for me_," a pause, and then: "_my words were meant as much for you as for him, if not more so_."

Her heart seemed to stop for a moment, then it started beating faster.

"_I'm not sure how much meaning I should read into your words, Commander_," she said, as calmly as possible, trying not to get her hopes up again in vain.

He seemed to hesitate, then said: "_Perhaps that is as well, for now. Just bear in mind that I wanted you to know this_."

She nodded, shakily. "_May I be excused now?_"

"_Yes._"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She didn't sleep much that night. She couldn't concentrate much the next day. All that time, her mind was on one thing only. But she did come to a decision. And so the next evening, she headed for Spock's rooms.

He let her in, and as the door closed behind her, they stood just next to it, and he looked at her calmly. "_Commander,_" she started, her voice almost firm. "_You said yesterday that you wanted me to know the things you said. Today, there are things I would like you to know, and that I would like to know myself. I have a request to make_."

He inclined his head. "_Make it_."

"_I ask of you to initiate psionic contact with me_." Perhaps it was just shadow play in his face, but there seemed to be some kind of emotional reaction to this statement. "_You said yesterday that Vulcans never do anything against logic, and that you've once made sure about your choice by psionic contact. I ask you to do this now, to...make sure. If there is anything particularly illogical about" _she hesitated with the formulation, then opted for the ambiguous_ "me, I want to know straight away. I don't want to...waste time in uncertainty._"

His gaze seemed to grow more intense. "_Your request is highly logical. Also, if I may say so, very brave_."

She looked away. "_I'm trying to protect my own emotional health_." She hesitated, then added: "_Also, it seems I'm not the first woman to make this request of you_."

"_You are. In Miss Kalomi's case, it was my request, and it took considerable time to convince her. She needed to see I was absolutely unyielding on this first. In your logic and courage, you are singular._"

She shut her eyes for a moment. "_Commander, please, just.._."

Another inclination of his head. "_Yes, I will initiate telepathic contact with you_."

Nyota extended her hand, then said: "_I'm sorry if my emotions overwhelm you. This is actually another reason I wish the contact. I wish for you to know if...if it isn't too much_."

He just nodded, raised his mental shields and touched one finger to her palm.

First, he looked at the echoes of her wishes and dreams and ideals. It was weak in this kind of contact, the link through fingers was only slight, but she was open to him, and so he could read clearly enough. Again in this case, like before with Leila Kalomi, he found that his assessment had been correct. Where Leila was different, this woman was like him. Duty and service and loyalty featured prominently in her mind, as important concepts. Her life goals also seemed to be in accordance with his own. Finally, he turned his mental sight to her emotions.

The love in her burned bright as it called to him, brighter than what he saw when he attempted this before. He could feel the responding increase in his own flame. It took considerable force of will to break the connection.

She was looking at him with a question and uncertainty in her eyes.

He steeled himself and answered calmly: "_I detected nothing particularly illogical. Your emotions are also...acceptable_."

She took a step closer.

"_Cadet Uhura-_"

"_Nyota! Please!_"

He looked at her intently. "_Yet I wished to place emphasis on the _cadet_ just now..._Nyota."

She nodded, understanding, and looked up into his face, thoughtful. "_You never told me your other name, Commander Spock_."

"_My family name is __S'chn T'gai_."

"_I will be a cadet for thirteen more days,_ S'chn T'gai Spohkh." And then she turned on her heel and left the room.

"_Thirteen days, four hours, seventeen minutes and twenty-one seconds_," he said quietly into the darkness.

He spent most of the night meditating.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Have a cookie for every reference to TOS episode This Side of Paradise that you caught. This chapter – and consequently the whole story – was heavily inspired by it, or rather, it was a very important impulse for writing it.


	29. Chapter 29

AN: I'm owning this less and less as we get more and more into the movie.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As announced, Spock really did cancel their study sessions for a time. Combined with the fact that it was exam time and so they, as usual, did not have their dinner conversations, it meant Nyota was not seeing him at all. Which was probably for the best. She was not sure how well she'd hold up for those thirteen days otherwise. But now it was just five days till graduation, and she was having her last exam the next day. The last exam of her Academy studies. The results of all the written examinations she did the week before were already in, and she knew she passed all of them. The oral exams and practicals were this week, and she had been successful in those too. If she passed that last exam, she would be a qualified Starfleet officer. Well, technically she needed to graduate for that, too, but still.

She decided to go to the long range sensor lab anyway, even though Spock wasn't there. There was bound to be someone, people were practicing because of the exams, and after all this time spent on it, transmission analysis actually calmed her down.

That is, it calmed her down when she wasn't intercepting distress calls from forty-seven Klingon ships being apparently destroyed by some Romulan super-ship. That was just too weird. It made her worried and made her head hurt. She knew there were some competent people somewhere who got the message and were dealing with it, but it still made her unable to concentrate on transmissions anymore. She supposed that once she was a communications officer, she would have to keep working in such situations, but given that it _was_ the evening before her last exam and she actually came there to relax, she decided to give herself a break. She packed her things about half an hour after she came to the lab, and went back to her room. Only, of course, to discover Kirk hiding under Gaila's bed. This day was just going from bad to worse.

"Kirk of all people, Gaila?" She asked, exasperated, after he left.

Gaila smirked. "If you could smell his pheromones, you wouldn't be asking such questions."

"Then I'm glad I don't. No, wait, I'm glad I don't in any case."

Nyota was extra irritated with Kirk that day. He had one Kobayashi Maru the day before and, apparently, was going to have another one the next day. Which would make a total of three. Now it was Kirk's problem that he liked to embarrass himself over and over again, but did he have to request her there every time? She didn't have the time, plus, she hated the scenario. All she told Spock was true, she did think it was important – though not quite as important that cadets should be taking it thrice – but she still hated it, and it didn't get much better with time. Sometimes she wished he wasn't such a good programmer and there was some way to beat the test. No, that was a lie. She loved that he was a complete genius.

On Friday morning, she passed her last exam – field simulations – and was therefore granted the rank of lieutenant. Now that was cool. And Spock stopped by – how did he find the time she had no idea – to congratulate her. It was sort of ironic – all of her exams were done, but till the graduation ceremony a day later, she was officially still a student. So the congratulations were brief and not at all how she ideally imagined they'd be, but they were from him, and that counted.

Gaila was a new lieutenant too, so they congratulated each other and Nyota sent a subspace message to her parents to inform them she was all done and everything was bright in her future. As she walked to that damned Kobayashi Maru, she felt like singing really loudly. She successfully completed her studies, top of the communications class and with brilliant recommendations, she was going to do the job of her dreams soon, she had every confidence she was going to be assigned to the Enterprise, and Spock was going to be there too. Her career and her romantic life couldn't look better. Even the weather seemed to agree that everything was perfect.

Perhaps that perfect atmosphere got even to the simulation computers who were starting to develop a consciousness of their own, because that was the only way she could explain Kirk's success. Seriously, what was that? Klingon shields were _down_? How did he do that?

As they exited the simulation room, she fixed her yes on the teacher's booth. Sure enough, Spock came out of there soon, and she shot him a questioning glance. He shrugged almost imperceptibly. So he didn't know either. That was seriously strange.

An answer to the puzzling problem presented itself in the unexpected form of incredibly angry Gaila that was waiting for her in their room.

"That bastard!" She shouted. "That piece of-" she switched to Orion, using words that Nyota's two years of study did not cover.

"Gaila, what's going on?"

"What's going on? I'll tell you what's going on! How did Kirk do in Kobayashi Maru?"

"That's what I was going to tell you, I don't know how he did it, but he passed," Nyota shared the news.

"I'll bloody well tell you how he did it!" Gaila shouted, livid. "He sent a freakin' virus to my email! I thought it was some kind of erotic letter and so I opened it and...oh, I'm gonna kill that boy..."

Nyota paused. "Wait, so he actually...used you to win this scenario? That is low even for him!"

"Well, it's not like I didn't want to sleep with him or that he had to try too hard," Gaila grudgingly admitted. "But still, using me to launch a virus? I can't just forgive that."

I guess everybody has different priorities, Nyota thought. She was considering. Should she tell Spock? Was this case important enough to report someone? They were going to figure out there was a virus involved anyway, she was sure of that. She could hardly save Kirk from that accusation. But they might not find out how he managed to get it in the computer. They might either arrive at an incorrect solution, in which case someone innocent would be punished, or else spend weeks in useless investigations. She was rather inclined to think that this was a case in which she should report. But it wasn't just her problem to decide.

She explained her reasoning to Gaila and had the advantage of her roommate's revengefulness getting in the way of her normal dislike of reporting anything. And so, to Spock's office Nyota marched. She was just glad it was still early, just after lunch, and she didn't have to go to his quarters, that might conceivably be too much.

He seemed surprised to see her. He didn't say anything. She could understand that, she didn't know how to address him either. When he'd congratulated her on her new rank, it was in public and thus simple enough, but here...She simply got straight to the point. "_Have you discovered how Kirk managed to beat your simulation yet?_"

"_No. It was obviously a virus of some sort, I'm now working on discovering what kind exactly and how he got it in_," Spock said with his usual calm.

"_I know how he got it in,_" Nyota stated.

"_Come in_," he said, finally stepping aside. She wasn't offended, though – she was apprehensive about being alone with him too. He motioned her to a chair at his desk, and she sat down.

"_I'm listening_."

"_He sent an email to my roommate, Gaila. She works in the computer lab and has admin rights. That email contained the virus. She had no idea what she was opening. It was an email from her lover, she wasn't expecting...anything_," Nyota hastened to emphasize.

Spock raised his eyebrow. "_Did cadet Kirk purposefully seduce your roommate in order to gain this access to her?_"

Nyota shrugged. "_Probably, but that really shouldn't be counted against him. Gaila is an Orion. As she said herself, she didn't need much persuading. She is much angrier about the fact that someone used her to unleash a virus. I think she sees it as a spot on her professional honour._"

Spock tilted his head. "_Assure her that it will not be regarded as such. And thank you for informing me of this, in spite of your dislike of reporting_."

Nyota sighed. "_I did consider it carefully, and I came to the conclusion that it was better to do so in this case._"

He nodded. "_As I said, thank you_."

It took most of Nyota's willpower to just raise from that chair. He was standing far enough from her, probably for safety reasons. As she stood up, she hesitated. It was just one day difference! Why did it even matter? All of her exams were done, why should it be important if she had gone through some kind of silly ceremony? As she stood there, she saw Spock open his mouth as if to say something, and then close it again. She knew, she just knew he didn't think it was logical either. Any possible favouritism he might have exhibited was no longer an option. But it was still against regulation, and that was what prevented him from making a move.

She remembered a conversation long time ago: "_Do you place no value on following rules, as such?_" He had asked. She had answered that she did, then, but at the moment, it seemed like a rather unreasonable reply to her.

"_I will have to return to the analysis of that virus_," Spock interrupted her thoughts. "_It needs to be done as soon as possible._"

Nyota nodded. That was actually rather convenient, as much as she hated it. It meant he could not spend time with her even if she wasn't still a cadet, so any hesitation on her part was a moot point. She sighed. It was probably for the best. It was just one day, after all. He wasn't going to just disappear from the surface of Earth or something.

"_Good_ luck _with that_," she said simply.

He smiled in response as he said: "Luck _is illogical_," and she had to drag herself out of his office, because that smile was simply too inviting. If she looked at it a few seconds more, she couldn't have resisted kissing it. Tomorrow, she told herself firmly. Tomorrow, I will spend the entire evening with Spock, undisturbed by Kirk's folly. Now it was time to go and see Rachel, and plan that last girls' night out, the one that was to contain Leonard and was to ensure Ines' happily ever after.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Let me just say that in any sane world, Starfeet would have people monitoring transmissions – and by "people", I _don't _mean cadets – and would have investigated the info that something destroyed _forty-seven Klingon warbirds_. But of course, that would have made the film less dramatic...


	30. Chapter 30

AN: I don't own this.

All right, let's rock'n'roll.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Kirk's disciplinary hearing was scheduled just a day later, for the morning of the day of Nyota's graduation, of all times. She was exasperated. She just wanted to have the day over with and be able to bang in Spock's quarters. She didn't care how much work he had, he would make time for her, she was pretty confident about that. She spent the entire night thinking – or dreaming – about that moment, and the meeting the day before made her quite certain that he couldn't wait either – he had actually been considering breaking regulations, she knew it. She had _plans_ for that evening, and that night, and maybe even that morning, depending on how quickly he wanted to go. But first, she had to endure the hearing.

Not that it was generally known it was going to be Kirk's hearing, but the moment she heard that they were all expected to assemble in the great hall in the morning already, she knew what was going to happen. And sure enough; there he was, being called down, as arrogant as ever, and Spock coming down a minute later to face him. She had to admire the Vulcan. He was eminently patient, as always, not thrown in the slightest by Kirk's outrageous behaviour, calmly arguing his case, his logic deadly. He was sexy as hell. Oh, she wanted the evening already!

Then there was some interruption. A distress call from Vulcan...she hoped it was nothing serious. Then she heard the rest: "I hereby order all cadets to report to hangar one."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she murmured under her breath. There went her evening. She hoped it was nothing particularly dire, but considered it unlikely, and so she was less than thrilled that what she had been looking forward to for months was being postponed because some Klingon pilot has lost his way or something. No, she was being ridiculous, if it was one Klingon pilot, the Vulcans would have dealt with it themselves, but still, they were sending cadets in, so it couldn't be anything very alarming. And so, not good enough reason to mess with her plans. There. She was being very logical about this, she was sure.

She reported to hangar one with Gaila, still angry at Kirk after confronting him before the hearing, at her side. They looked like a seething duo, but her roommate's mood was soon improved. Gaila was sent to the Enterprise, which thrilled Nyota – she had always hoped they would serve together, and Gaila certainly was good enough for that – until she heard the ship called after her name.

_USS Farragut_? He had to be joking. Oh no. On no, she was _so_ not going to let this one slide. This was her life's wish, and he bloody well knew it. There was nothing like a logical argument presented with a bit of anger in her voice, she decided. She vaguely remembered him mentioning some time ago that he often dismissed such arguments. Well, he can _try_ dismissing hers. She was sure there were plenty of other people on the Enterprise who could serve as science officers after she brutally murdered him. Suus mahna or not, an angry Kenyan woman was a force of nature.

She found him at one of the computer stations.

"Commander, a word?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?" He said like nothing in the world was the matter. Oh, she was gonna tear him a new one.

"Was I not one of your top students?" Choke on your logic.

"Indeed you were."

"And did I not, on multiple occasions, demonstrate an exceptional aural sensitivity, and, I quote, 'an unparalleled ability to identify sonic anomalies in subspace transmissions tests?'" Just try to deny it, she thought. What she quoted at him were actually his words from her first SCPS course. The first one. That was in her second year. He knew bloody well she had gotten much better since then.

"Consistently, yes." She just wanted to punch him in the face.

"And while you are well aware of my own qualified desires to serve on the USS Enterprise, I'm assigned to the Farragut?" She asked in disbelief.

"It was an attempt to avoid the appearance of favouritism," he said quietly, looking around.

What? What? This from a man who told her, not so long ago, that he refused to stop doing something entirely correct just because it could be interpreted in a wrong light, and that acting on fear lead only to paranoia? No. Just no. "No," she said aloud. "I'm assigned to the Enterprise."

He looked her straight in the eyes for a moment, appearing to want to tell her something, but she didn't want to hear it. And then, with his face as clam and blank as ever, he just adjusted the list on his PADD and said: "Yes, I believe you are."

"Thank you," she said, satisfied with herself, and entered the closest Enterprise shuttle.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She had to admit that the view of the space dock was impressive. It was just huge. And so pretty. This might even compensate for the spoiled evening. Especially since she wasn't feeling that thrilled to see Spock right now.

Her optimism about the whole thing started to evaporate as she heard the ensign with the terrible accent say that there was strange seismic activity on Vulcan. This looked like no rogue Klingon. On the other hand, it probably meant it was just natural causes, so likely the worst they'd have to do would be to evacuate the planet. But the idea of something serious happening to it was very unpleasant even if no Vulcans died in the process. It was the home of her favourite culture, and more importantly, the place of Spock's birth.

She was sitting at her station in the communications department, worrying about this, when suddenly there was Kirk, muttering something she couldn't understand. What was he even doing there? She knew she had no right to talk, since she was originally not supposed to be there either, but Kirk? After that hearing? Seriously?

Then she realized he was asking her about that strange distress call with the destroyed Klingon ships and was able to confirm that it was Romulan. That seemed to really freak him out for some reason – not that Romulans were such nice fellows, but the main thing here, in her opinion, was the fact that it destroyed several Klingon ships. They had to worry about whoever could do that, even if it were freakin' Vulcans.

He started to run to the bridge, which freaked _her_ out, since she couldn't help feeling he was going to get them all in trouble. And so they ran after him, both her and Leonard. Apparently, being two ranks above him still gave them no control over the man. She should have known it.

When on the bridge, she instinctively ran in Spock's direction, but stopped herself in time and watched with morbid fascination as Kirk embarrassed himself...which turned into sheer astonishment when she realized he was actually not embarrassing himself, he was making sense! She was so shocked it took her a moment to reply to the Captain's query, and then she waited, tense, for the verdict.

She exhaled with relief when Spock supported Kirk. She didn't care what the Vulcans said, he should serve as a shining example to all of them. Just about an hour after confronting Kirk at a disciplinary hearing, he was capable of calmly analysing his argument and support him when logic demanded it, something that was apparently beyond, say, Ambassador Sarek's abilities, from what Spock said. And he slipped in a compliment for her, too, even though he would certainly say it was an observation of fact.

And then she was suddenly the communications officer. She knew now was no time to get dazed, but it was rather difficult. Of course she spoke Romulan, everyone who studied Vulcan at college took Romulan as a core class, too. The comparisons were simply too interesting to pass up. She was surprised the lieutenant who held the position before her couldn't tell the difference, though – most people in communications were at least intermediate in Vulcan, because of first contact and everything, and everyone who got at least to Vulcan III was taught the basic comparisons between that and Romulan. But perhaps the lieutenant simply thought that as everyone else knew it, he didn't need to bother.

She could afford such meditations, they were a comfortable, familiar distraction and there wasn't exactly much to concentrate on in the subspace. To be precise, there was nothing at all.

The arrival at Vulcan was a shock. No, that was an understatement, it was...crippling fear, terror, and desperate sadness in realizing that all the people on those ships were actually dead. All of them. That meant most of her year, and the year bellow that. Faces of her friends floated through her mind. The cadets who were supposed to graduate in a couple of hours. There was going to be no graduation now...

Her heart seemed constricted and she could feel tears welling up in her eyed. She was angry and frustrated. No, she told herself, you will not cry. You are a Starfleet officer. You need to be able to deal with this.

It didn't help. The idea of Rachel's body among the ruins they saw on the screen overrode any sense of personal pride. She was going to break down...

And then there was someone hailing them, which helped her to snap out of it as she reported it to the captain. And _then_ there was that man on the screen, that man who did all of this, and he addressed Spock specifically, and she had to grip the edge of her chair to prevent herself from shouting, crying or anything. She didn't understand, and she could tell Spock didn't either, but it could not be good.

Captain Pike was going over there, she noted in a daze, counting on getting killed. Suddenly she felt terribly young and unprepared for this. This was the great heroism she had talked about a couple of months back, right in front of her, and the only thing that she felt was fear.

And then Spock came back and sat in the Captain's chair.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Canon says that the Kobayashi Maru, the disciplinary hearing AND the attack on Vulcan all happened on the same day. That is just nonsense. Originally, I had the hearing four days after the Kobayashi Maru, because that seemed like a realistic minimal amount of time to prepare everything, but since it's also established that Nyota intercepted the message about that Klingon prison planet the evening before the simulation, it would give Nero a bit too much time to arrive to Vulcan, so I shortened it to just one day. It seems pretty unrealistic to me, having a disciplinary hearing just a day after the offense, but it was the best compromise I could find.

(Then again, canon also seems to imply that Starfleet received the distress call from Vulcan during the night, and just waited till the afternoon to be able to interrupt Kirk's hearing with it, so...canon says a lot of strange things. And don't even get me started on why the hell did the Vulcans not include the tiny detail of 'there's a huge drill from hell and that's what causes the seismic activity' in their distress call...)


	31. Chapter 31

AN: This one is very short, but it just feels right this way. I don't own it.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The shock helped Nyota concentrate on the situation at hand. Spock was the First Officer? Why the hell didn't he tell her? Oh right, she could add that to the list of questions to ask him if they survived this, right after "what the hell did you mean by assigning me to the Farragut?"

She realized she would have been dead now, had she not persuaded him. That brought that strange dazed state right back on. In it, Leonard's answer to Spock seemed almost funny, and she had to fight down her giggle. She still knew that would be inappropriate, that was a good sign. She wasn't that out of it yet.

Then came the moment where she witnessed her first death live, so to say. It was so quick...there were three people in that away team, and now there were only two. One human being just died. It was difficult to wrap her mind around it, and there were hundreds of people dead on the other ships who were still waiting for her to wrap her mind around.

The mist in her mind was suddenly penetrated by Spock's words: "They're creating a black hole at the centre of Vulcan?"

At once, she was completely focused, and so she heard the following exchange, too.

"How long does the planet have?"

"Minutes, sir, minutes," was Chekov's answer, and then Spock was leaving the bridge. She ran after him, not even thinking about how that looked. He was going down there. He was going down on a planet which was being consumed by a black hole. She couldn't say anything, she couldn't protest, she knew he was doing the right thing, but she wanted to shout at him to stay right where he was. She said nothing, just looked at him as he disappeared in the elevator. There was despair in his eyes, and that was disconcerting. She had never seen anything in those eyes before, not even in moments she thought were rather emotional for him, but now...she returned to her station even more troubled, her mind latching on this one factor because the other things were simply to huge to think about.

After that, she watched as if from a distance another drama with Kirk and Sulu falling to their deaths, and Chekov running to save them. People at the con of this ship were changing way too fast, she thought, probably, again, as an alternative to thinking of all the terrible things that were happening. If she counted right, this was the fourth one, and it was probably about twenty minutes since they left Earth. Which was unbelievable enough in itself.

Time dragged on as she waited for Spock to appear again. And then...then she saw a planet die.

There were no words to describe that feeling. It was an inhabited planet, and that itself would have been enough. It was also a home of the oldest, most sophisticated civilization in the known Universe. She had come to regard it as her home outside Earth, even though she had never been there, and she had been hoping to visit the planet for years. And it was Spock's home. The place where he was born and grew up, where his parents lived. And she still didn't know if he saved them, or even if he was on board. She kept staring at the space where Vulcan used to be.

Before Spock personally came to the bridge, Sulu appeared, unharmed, but bearing with him the news that Spock's mother didn't make it.

Nyota could feel the tears rolling down her face, and could observe in a detached manner that it was very unprofessional of her. Yet there was no helping it. Lady Amanda was dead. Lady Amanda, who gave her plush sehlats and who looked at her and Spock with that knowing look only mothers knew how to do. Lady Amanda, serving as the only bridge between the father and the son. Lady Amanda, who corresponded with her mother. Lady Amanda, who praised her Vulcan. She was dead. Died with a planet that was her adopted home. Joined her fate with it...

Nyota quickly dried her tears when she saw Spock approaching the bridge. He didn't need her to make it even worse for him.

He just sat there for a moment, apparently deep in thought, then got up and headed for the elevators. She threw caution to the wind and followed him.

He didn't say anything when she joined him, nor when she pushed the stop button. She turned to him. "I'm sorry," she said. Such empty, useless words. As a human, she knew of only one way to lend weight to them. She touched his shoulders, "I'm sorry," she repeated, trying to give the words some meaning. She took his face in her hands. "I'm so sorry."

And then she was kissing him and hugging him, not caring about anything but making the pain she saw in him go away, or at least recede, at least a little bit. And after a while for which he stood motionless, he put his hands around her. She silently prayed that she be able to help him, at least a little bit, to help with the burden.

"What do you need?" She asked. "Please, tell me, what do you need?"

He seemed to hesitate, then he put the lift back in motion. "I need everyone to continue performing admirably." His voice shook slightly, and her heart broke. She tried to put all of her love in the parting, lingering kiss as he went after his duties.

She went back to hers, but there wasn't much to do on the bridge in his absence and without any clear orders, so she fell deeper and deeper in her dark thoughts, plagued by the look on his face in that lift, and by the way he held her when he allowed himself to.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Kirk was apparently out of his mind. As if Spock didn't have enough on his plate already, he had to deal with a crazy first officer too. Of course Nyota knew Spock's plan wasn't ideal, everyone knew that, most certainly including himself, but Kirk was offering no viable alternative. Then he...actually knocked out two security officers? What?

Seeing Spock render him unconscious with such ease was somewhat impressive, in different circumstances she would probably even say sexy, but what followed had her pause and consider. Actually shooting someone out of the ship to some random planet was against every regulation that ever existed. Such treatment was only allowed with extremely dangerous criminals who could not be held in the brig. Kirk was simply not that good.

She shot a worried look at Spock. Was it possible that he was emotionally compromised? He didn't really show it, at least not much, but that didn't mean anything. Such decision was so very unlike him...she sighed. It wasn't like they had any better options. Even half-crazy Spock was probably better than any of the rest.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Of course, in reality I believe the marooning was just a result of a desperate need of the authors of the script to somehow get Kirk and Spock Prime together. This was apparently the best they could come up with. I have to work with it somehow, but seriously. They could have at least beamed Kirk down to the outpost – it wouldn't have been too much trouble to put Spock Prime there. But of course, we get the snow monster instead.

And don't even get me started on the destruction of Vulcan. I seriously considered just ignoring it in my fic, but I can't very well do that, it's too important a plot point. So just allow me to say that I hate it. So. Much. Vulcan is the oldest and most cultured civilization Star Trek universe has, and the screenwriters decide to simply destroy it. Just like that. They'd never have the guts to do the same to Earth, that would be too unpopular, but destroying Vulcan is all right, it's just some stupid alien planet, right? No one cares, really. It makes me so angry just to think about it...


	32. Chapter 32

AN: Things come to a head. Things I don't own, that is. Film things. There's still time for the other kind of head...er. That came out wrong.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota was sitting at her station, worrying. Only half of her mind was on the transmissions, the other half was following Spock in whatever he was going at the moment. She kept picking up on more and more things that proved he was really not himself. Like his blatant use of sarcasm in his talk with Doctor McCoy – she knew he only allowed himself this with people he knew well. She didn't think that was the case with Leonard.

At the moment, he was talking to his father. At least there were some upsides to the situation. The situation which got even more surreal when Chekov reported that there were intruders aboard the ship. When they were at warp. And apparently, one of them was Kirk.

She was no engineer, so she didn't waste her time by trying to figure about how he managed it, and instead continued to worry about Spock. Once Kirk got to the bridge, however, Nyota realized after his second sentence that he meant to deliberately provoke Spock, and her worry grew exponentially. He really was out of sorts, Kirk could conceivably be successful, but was he forgetting Spock was a Vulcan? That didn't only mean emotional control, it also meant 'thrice as strong as a human'. He could well kill Kirk. Which, apart from being a terrible thing itself, would completely destroy him.

She saw Spock realized what was Kirk's intention, and she also saw that it didn't help him any.

When he attacked, she was frozen into inaction. She watched him close his hand around Kirk's throat, and then his father said one word, loudly and clearly: "Spock."

And it was enough. As Spock regained control of himself, she saw his horror and hated Kirk, hated him passionately, for doing this to Spock. Everyone had limits, even Vulcans. How much more could he handle before crumbling down completely?

He looked at his father for a while, and she just knew how ashamed he must feel, for losing control in front of him all of people. He declared himself not fit for duty and headed to the lift. She followed him, but could see in his face that now was not the time for her embrace. He wanted to be alone, and so she turned back. As she did so, she saw that Sarek went to follow him. She was pretty certain it was not a good idea right now, a lecture about emotional control could not come at a more inopportune moment, but she also knew it was not her place to intervene in this case. She could only pray silently and hope for the best.

When she realized Kirk did this just to get in command, her hatred rose. She knew he believed he was right and Spock was wrong in the suggested course of action, but really? She had to vent at least some of her emotions, otherwise she'd probably burst, so on her way to her station, she stopped by the captain's chair. "I sure hope you know what you're doing, Captain," she said sarcastically. His answer surprised her, though. It was a good deal less arrogant than she had expected. Perhaps he actually learned something today? One had to look for the bright lining, however thin it was.

This was the fifth person to sit in the chair since the beginning of their journey, about an hour ago.

Kirk announced his intentions to the ship, and the bridge officers huddled together to try and figure out a way to get aboard the Nerada. It was Chekov who came up with the answer, and when Spock appeared to confirm it, sounding normal again, Nyota almost collapsed with relief. Whatever his father told him, it obviously worked. Or perhaps Spock killed him and that allowed him to vent his anger, she thought cynically. Apparently, black humour was her way of coping.

Even hearing him volunteer for a suicide mission, supporting the choice with unshakeable logical arguments, made her feel better in this case. This was exactly how normal Spock acted. When she noticed that the corner of his mouth turned infinitesimally upwards in his comments about Kirk's disregard for the rules, however, she stared. His father was either a miracle worker, or he was laying somewhere cut into really small pieces.

She accompanied Spock and Kirk to the transporter room, not even bothering to look for an excuse. She was too stressed, worried and scared to care. As Kirk talked to that mysterious engineer of his, Nyota went up to stand close to the Vulcan in front of his transporter pad. She just stood there, wanting to keep up appearances – even though what appearance when she just personally accompanied him to the transporter and stood about ten centimetres from him, she didn't know – when he put his arms around her and kissed her. As she kissed him back fervently, she could feel tears streaming down her face.

When he broke the kiss, he whispered: "I'll be back."

"You'd better be," she tried to sound optimistic, making her voice firm. "I'll be monitoring your frequency."

"Thank you, Nyota."

It was only the second time that he called her by her given name, and both so far seemed to be rather life-changing. She certainly hoped they could settle to some more everyday approach when this was over. If, of course, they were going to live that long.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As soon as they left, Nyota ran back to the bridge. But it was too late, the communications were already down. She couldn't even keep her promise. Instead, she got to stare desolately at her console, her worry and fear increasing exponentially.

Fortunately, it lasted only for a couple of minutes. The moment they were back on, she ran to the station next to her to see where they were. Kirk was still aboard the Romulan ship, but Spock was flying around it in a strange small ship the likes of which she'd never seen. He dodged their missiles and then...went to warp, with the Romulan ship after it.

"Follow them!" She shouted, then put a hand over her mouth, embarrassed. She wasn't in command. However, it seemed her order was followed nonetheless – perhaps because no one was quite certain who had the con anymore. Technically it was Chekov, of course, but with things changing so quickly around here...

They went to warp, and then Spock was out of it, and the Romulans too.

"He can't withstand their fire for long, and evasion is not going to work forever," Uhura muttered to herself. "We have to help him!" She shouted.

"Drop out of warp, photon torpedoes ready, target the Romulan missiles," Sulu said immediately. Apparently, whoever pleased to do so was giving orders at this ship now.

"Vat Romulan missiles?" Chekov asked, confused.

"Oh, there will be some, don't worry," Sulu said, and sure enough, there were. And then there weren't. They got every single one of them. Oh, she just wanted to go and hug those boys!

Of course, Spock was still on collision course. What was he doing?

"He iz hoping that hovever the black hole device works, it vill create a black hole upon collision. He iz going to destroy Nero that vay," Chekov answered her question.

Well. There was that.

And then she heard Kirk's command, and they were both on board. She sagged back into her chair, from which she didn't even remember getting up.

She didn't relax completely until she saw Spock with her own eyes on the bridge. Then she exhaled, releasing a breath she seemed to be holding since he left, and she watched Kirk and Spock stand side by side, facing Nero, relief washing over her in waves. Who would have thought this would be possible just this morning? Was it really this morning? It felt like centuries ago...

The final drama of pulling away from the black hole left her exhausted and falling back into that dazed state. It was over. It was finally, finally over.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: So, so much for the film plot. One more regular chapter to go, and then the epilogue.


	33. Chapter 33

AN: The afternath. I don't own this either.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Lieutenant Uhura, send a message to Starfleet, describing what happened in short and telling them where we are and that we're without warp, to send someone to rescue us," Kirk ordered.

"Yes, Captain," Nyota replied, without any trace of sarcasm this time.

"It might take a while," he mused. "There are no ships left at the Earth's docking stations, so they will have to get someone who's just close."

"Captain," she heard Spock say, "I recommend letting the crew finish the most crucial tasks and then call beta shift to stations. While the mission was certainly shorter than eight hours, I believe most are exhausted and need the rest."

"You're right, Mr. Spock. Eight hours?"

"Yes, Captain."

Kirk called beta shift to stations in one hour, and then received the response from Starfleet. They were just letting them know that they were sending someone their way, and that the rescue should come in a couple of hours.

"All right," he said to the man who was to relieve him at the con. "Wake the alpha shift the moment the federation ships arrive, or the moment anything out of the ordinary happens. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

As the alpha shift was leaving the bridge, Nyota turned to Spock. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"I believe that what we need the most right now is rest. We will talk after that."

She nodded, and headed to her room.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota was exhausted and fell asleep easily, but it was not peaceful sleep and she was not overly sorry when the alpha shift bell sounded mere four hours later. She dragged herself to the bridge to communicate with the rescue ship. That Kirk's engineer, Mr. Scott, seemed to be extremely efficient as well as knowledgeable, and everything was resolved in another two hours.

"Gentlemen," Kirk stated, making Nyota shot him a dirty glance, "we're heading home."

That journey took only minutes, and as they docked in the station they left the same morning, she felt absolutely surreal. It all stood here as if nothing has changed, and yet she felt she was a completely different person from who she had been in the morning.

She stepped to Spock's side on their way to the shuttles. "_Can I stop by this evening?_" She asked quietly, in Vulcan.

"_Yes_," was all he said. It was going to have to be enough.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Once in her room, Nyota met a crying, hysterical Gaila. "I thought you were dead, Ny! I thought you were dead! You were supposed to be on the Farragut, how come you aren't dead!"

Nyota took a deep breath and then exhaled again, feeling rather defeated in spite of just being part of a victorious Starfleet crew. "I convinced Spock to reassign me to the Enterprise at the last minute," she explained quietly. Was someone dead instead of her, someone who was supposed to be on the Enterprise and who she had been swapped with?

Gaila just hugged her tightly and cried into her shoulder, and as Nyota patted her back, she let her own tears fall, too. For all of the cadets who didn't graduate this afternoon, and for all the inhabitants of Vulcan, and for the planet itself, and for Spock.

Faces of those who were lost swam across her vision. Rachel, her ambitious, scrupulously moral friend, with her shining eyes. She left two sisters and a brother behind, and Rebecca especially would mourn her. Rachel would never achieve her dreams now.

Pylas, the open-minded Andorian who didn't take offense at Gaila's insensitive behaviour and who was willing to postpone her judgement until she got to know her better. Pylas with her bright smile and phlegmatic attitude.

Joyce, her hard-working friend from communications with whom she used to talk about school and exams a lot, before she knew Spock and needed someone to vent to. All of her other acquaintances from communications, too.

Harshika and Pachai both, that sweet couple who had such plans and worked so hard to make a common future possible. They were both so beautiful. And Harshika with her linguistic talent that would never come to good use now.

Ines, that strong girl with a proud face who had been hurt so much and who was now only beginning to see the light again. She never got to it. She never got a chance to go on a date with Leonard. Nyota felt momentarily guilty for not agreeing to Leonard's presence at their gatherings sooner, but then she realized it would have just meant Leonard would have been terribly hurt too, once again, and she was glad she didn't. That there wasn't another couple being torn apart.

Like...Aisha.

That one name.

It didn't bear thinking about.

The girl who was to get married in a month, who was so blissfully happy, waiting for her fiancée to come back from space, feeling slightly worried about him from time to time, but never about herself, because she was safe at the Academy, after all. That serious, quiet girl with those deep black eyes. That responsible, clever woman. And Ahmad...Nyota had met him a couple of times before he left for space. He was one of the most charming, attentive men she knew. Aisha and Ahmad were one of the couples that had made her so desperately jealous and hurting, before she had Spock. Their mutual love and respect was almost palpable. And now Ahmad was alone. She couldn't even imagine that pain.

And Khadija, of course, that fierce, charismatic woman Khadija, made to be a captain, who loved her sister above anything. How was Khadija to ever overcome her sister's death? Would she feel guilty that it was her scientific cadet sister who died in service, instead of herself, who had already graduated and who was more military-minded anyway? Would she slip into despair? Would she lose the spark that was so characteristic for her?

Of all the people she knew to be involved in this tragedy, it was Ahmad and Khadija that Nyota pitied the most. Them...and Spock. And her tears just kept falling, and they were unstoppable.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It seemed to be hours before Nyota calmed down enough to send a message to her parents, shortly informing them of the events and assuring them she was all right. She made a special mention of Lady Amanda's death, sadly looking at the plush sehlat she got from Spock as she did so.

Then she gathered her courage and what remained of her mental stability and went to see Spock.

His quarters were dark, and he was wearing his Vulcan robes again. At her surprised look, he said: "_I was meditating_."

She nodded her understanding and he motioned her to the couch as usual, sitting down opposite to her.

"Nyota," he said softly. "_I trust you are aware that the situation has changed_."

She closed her eyes. It was this thought that had been trying to work its way into her brain for the past eight hours, and she had been staunchly ignoring it. God knew there was enough horror to think about without this and she couldn't, couldn't deal with it all if she was at the same time to think that she was alone. But now it was here, before her, in its naked dreadfulness.

"_You are going to resign your Starfleet commission and live with the remaining Vulcans on the new colony,_" she said, very quietly.

"_Yes_." He paused. "_Not so long ago, you told me the most important duty was always the first one. I was born on Vulcan_."

She nodded. "_I understand_," she said. "_I really do. I even think you are making the right and logical choice...as long as that decision is not permanent. Go, move to a new Vulcan colony, help your people build their lives there, even have a bunch of Vulcan kids with a pretty Vulcan wife," _she almost choked on her words_, "and watch them grow up, but go back to Starfleet then. Vulcans live long enough for this to be possible. And Starfleet is where you belong, or where you'd belong if the situation was less extreme. You are good at this. You should not be saying goodbye to it for ever_."

Spock seemed to grip his hands a little harder. "_I am not certain from what you deduction arises, since your only experience with my work in Starfleet included me failing to save my planet and my own mother, making a wrong decision and then insisting on it, breaking every regulation about prisoner treatment, almost killing my first officer, and not realising that our proximity to a black hole was likely to pull us in, in spite of me being the science officer and an astrophysicist_."

Nyota's sadness was quickly replaced by anger, because anger was easier and she welcomed it. "_Is that how it was? Funny, because I remember it rather differently. I remember you accepting and supporting a logical argument even when it came from a man you were facing in a disciplinary hearing just minutes ago, taking command of the ship in a calm and professional manner, risking your life to save the Vulcan cultural heritage, in which, incidentally, you succeeded, then managing under extreme emotional strain and choosing the best decision possible based on the available facts, then, again, supporting a man who has deliberately provoked you into a violent emotional breakdown in front of your father, and then risking your life again in an attempt to save the Earth, which, again, you managed. I told you once that humans were the least objective when they were turning their minds towards themselves. It seems that in this at least, you are rather human_."

He was silent for a long while, contemplating her words, then said: "_It was not the best decision possible._"

Nyota took a deep breath, calming down, realizing this response meant he accepted the rest of her argument. "_Not in hindsight. And yes, if there was enough time to consider the alternatives, you could have figured out Chekov's solution. But there wasn't enough time. Kirk's choice, as he presented it, was unviable. No one can fault you for not preferring it_."

"_Yet had the Earth been destroyed, it would have been my responsibility_," he pointed out.

"_No. It would have been Nero's responsibility_," Nyota said with emphasis.

"_Certainly, but mine too. There is no use shying away from the facts. Kirk has some capacity as a commanding officer which I lack, and which is crucial. It is a certain instinctive ability to judge a situation_."

She tilted her head. "_Does that bother you a lot_?"

"_No, not really. I do not...envy him, if that is what you mean. At least, I do not envy him this capability_."

Nyota nodded in understanding. "_You are doing the right thing. Just promise me you will return to Starfleet one day_."

"_If it will be at all possible, I promise I will_." A pause, then: "_It is a paradox that now when I appreciate you more than ever before, I am going to lose you_."

Nyota closed her eyes. "_Spock, please, don't make it more difficult for me. I can hold my emotions in check, but I cannot turn them off, and I'm still feeling...I'm not going to describe it for you, I don't want to make you suffer more, but just..._"

He nodded and rose. "_Do you...do you want to say farewell now_?"

She guessed what he was really asking, and got up too. "_I'd love to, there's nothing I want more right now, but if I kissed you now, I'd never be able to stop. I..._" She came to a halt. There was nothing to say. She shook her head and headed to the door.

"Nyota," he called after her. She turned around. His hand was formed in the ta'al. "_Live long and prosper_."

"_Peace and long life_, Spohkh," she replied and left.

She couldn't see her way back properly, because of all the tears.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Only the epilogue now left...


	34. Epilogue

AN: It's the final countdown...and I still don't own a single number of it.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The graduation ceremony was joined with a memorial service and would have made Nyota heartbreakingly sad if she hadn't been in that state already. She cried out all of her tears some time ago, and during the graduation, she was simply staring numbly ahead.

After that, she went to see her parents for three weeks. Her mother was very emotional, about the danger she had been in as well as the fact that she would leave for space soon. She was, indeed, assigned to the Enterprise, to serve under Kirk as the communications officer. A month ago, she would have been thrilled.

Fortunately, the recent tragedy provided a good reason for her emotional state. And it wasn't entirely an excuse, the destruction of Vulcan, deaths of her schoolmates and death of Lady Amanda weighted greatly on her mind. It just wasn't the only thing that bothered her.

She tried to feel guilty about that. Billions of Vulcans died with that planet. What was one little heartbreak compared to it? It shouldn't be as much as worth mentioning. She wasn't even dating him, she shouldn't feel so forlorn at having no future prospects with him. But the thing was, only now was she beginning to appreciate how deep her feelings really ran.

Nyota had known before that they stemmed from friendship and so it was no mere crush, but because she had to constantly tamp down on her emotions when he was her teacher, she never realized how much she truly felt. It was probably for the best, it wouldn't have changed the logic of his decision – which she approved of, really – and it would have just made it more difficult. Like it was more difficult right now. She was looking forward to going to space, hoping it would distract her. She dreaded the boring shifts _he_ mentioned. That was the time when depression would set in. The depression she'd thought was gone forever when it didn't come that spring. It would be back, and it would be worse, because she found her chance and she let it go. Logically, it was the correct decision, but then her depression was not based on logic.

Her mind was a cage she couldn't escape. When she tried to forget about Spock, there were the faces of her dead friends in her mind, and when she turned from them, it was the picture of Vulcan being destroyed that was burned in her retinas. And when her thoughts tried to find something else to dwell on, there was the absence of Spock to catch their attention. There was only darkness everywhere.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Nyota spent the first two weeks in Africa in this vicious circle without any improvement, in sleepless nights or nightmares and days spent by crying. After two weeks, she firmly decided to pick herself up. The people who died were gone, there was nothing she could do about it, and crying would not help them. And as for Spock...she told him to go to New Vulcan, she told him she understood, and it was true. His duty lay with his people. She was not going to mope about it, she wasn't some damned pathetic heroine. She would prepare for her new job instead.

Her parents noticed the change in her and were joyful, and she was sorry she caused them worry and hadn't even realized it. She tried extra hard for them, and the last week was almost pleasant. It was only on surface, of course – she couldn't command her deeper emotions that easily and there were still waves of despair overcoming her, and nightmares, but at least she didn't show it, and that made her family happier.

There were many tears shed in the parting, and then it was a week before the launch of the Enterprise, and Nyota was back in San Francisco. She shared some girl talks with Gaila, to whom she could talk about their dead friends as well as Spock, and Gaila would comfort her and tease her out her bad mood, mainly by pretending to be jealous of her bridge position. And one moment Nyota became worried that she actually was jealous, but Gaila just laughed.

"I wouldn't want to be on bridge. I don't know if I'll ever want to be there, and certainly not now. It's too much stress and responsibility. I am content as one computer engineer among many."

And then the time for Nyota's first real space job came. In the morning, there was the ceremony for Kirk's commendation and commission, for which almost every cadet who was on the Enterprise during the Nero crisis, and some younger ones too, came back to the Academy. Nyota was happy for him, but at the same time couldn't help feeling that there should be a ceremony like that being held for Spock, too, and that it was deeply wrong that there wasn't.

When she sat on the bridge of the Enterprise later in the day, she was trying to awaken in herself some enthusiasm. This was what she'd always wanted. This was the fulfilment of her life's dreams. A bridge officer at 27. That was surely impressive (though not as impressive as Kirk's captain at 22, of course. He skipped four ranks. But still.) And on the Enterprise, of all starships. She should be able to feel happy and accomplished, she thought, irritated, as she reported to Kirk that dock control was ready. Dwelling on the bad things was just...it was just not _logical_. Well, no matter. She would overcome this in time, or at least suppress it, which was enough for most practical purposes. The springs would probably get a bit worse, but she would be able to handle it, in time. She just had to be patient with herself and concentrate on her work.

And then there was the sound of the turbolift arriving, and she turned to see who it was, and her heart stopped.

What...? How...? She didn't know or understand, and she only half heard his application for the first officer position. But then he walked past her to his station and just looked at her, she smiled brightly and felt that everything, absolutely everything, was going to be well.

THE END

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o -o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

AN: Forgive this slight reference to my other fandom. :)

So, this is it, guys. I did say this story ended when the film ended, didn't I? It ends _precisely_ here.

But, well, I'm not quite that sadistic, so...the first chapter of the sequel, _Finding Balance_, is already posted, and hopefully it will be a bit more satisfactory than this ending. :)


End file.
